The Brit Next Door
by Mars and Kitkat
Summary: Alfred is a senior, graduating in 2 months like everyone else. Like them, he wants to be big. One problem? He's at the bottom of the social pyramid. However, when Alfred catches sight of his neighbor-an ex-porn star named Arthur- undressing, new interests and problems arise. But one thing's for sure; Alfred wants to capture the man's body for his own. USUK Based off Girl Next Door
1. Appearance of the Sexy

**Title: The Brit Next Door**

** Rating: M (For language, sexual themes and situations, and mentions of drug use) **

** Summary: Alfred F Jones is a normal high school teen, graduating in 2 months like any other kid. And like these kids, he has big hopes for the future. The only problem? He's at the bottom of the social pyramid, and a stepping-stone for the other kids, along with his three best friends Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert. **

**However, when Alfred catches sight of his new neighbor- an ex-porn star named Arthur- undressing, new interests and problems arise. Though one thing's for sure; Alfred wants to capture the Brit's body for his own. **

** Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the 2004 Film, 'The Girl Next Door.' I am simply using the characters and plots for mine and others entertainment. I will in no way prosper off of this work.**

Couples involved in this story;  
UsUk (Main)  
Spamano (Side couples)  
Uk/Another character who will not be mentioned at this moment in time

_Well, hello there, lovely readers. I'm back with yet another Fanfiction for Hetalia. This is based off of the Girl Next Door (2004) film, and I intend to make it silly, perverted, and fluffy. Smut may come in later chapters, but for now it's all lovey-dovey happiness. _

_ Thank you for reading, and I'm sorry this chapter's particularly short. It's more of an introduction. The next one's will be longer._

***Important note* There will later be Uk/Others involved in this story. It isn't going to be an official pairing, nor the main pairing of this story. But if you dislike it, it's not too bad, and is only a few mentions. **

* * *

"No fucking way!"

There was a static-soaked, silence from the other end, though the receiver of the call could only guess the male he was talking to was cracked up just as much as he. It didn't last long, and soon the shrieking voice of his companion entered his ears once more; it was annoying and high pitched as always, but it was the same voice that had been there for him for years. Therefore he didn't mind it. "You'd never win! I could pick up more girls than you in a week! And they'd all be hot!" And like always, he was spouting obnoxious rambles, usually to try to upstage the other. Whether it was something simple or not, the owner of the other voice always attempted at besting his long time friend.

Alfred F. Jones found his eyes rolling automatically in reaction to the words of his friend, Gilbert. He knew Gilbert would be doing the same as him; sitting alone on his bed, staring at the ceiling on a Friday night, having nothing better to do than talk about the imaginary partners they were sure to come across in the following years.

As mentioned, they were imaginary. Unfortunately, to Alfred's dismay and Gilbert's utter despair. Gilbert never understood this – his excuse as to no one wanting him was that he was just too unapproachable for people, and not in a bad way either. At least he secretly hoped so.

"Like hell you'd somehow find the power to be more charming than me!" Alfred argued, sporting his pride for another time this evening. "I'm always getting more love notes than you! Remember that time in 8th grade, when Lili Zwingli gave me that valentine? Then her trigger-happy brother – Vash, right? - pegged me in the ass with his Bebe gun after school the next day...Besides, why is it always chicks for you? I thought you were-"

There was the sound of fumbling, and the albino said in a quick whisper, "Dude, speaker phone. My mutti and the stick-in-the-mud don't need to know anything." He calmed himself when Alfred has silenced his sentence just before the ice-breaker, and continued on. "Does it matter, though? You have to admit, tits can be pretty hot. Especially Katyusha's. I didn't even know anything was godly enough to get them that big. And damn, they're soft!"

"And... how would you know this?"

"...I touched them in gym yesterday."

"Oh hell no! You did not! How'd you get past the wall of meat?"

"Ivan? That was easy. I just told that one stalker girl where he changed in the boys dressing room. She kept him busy for quite a while!"

"Nice thinking."

"I'm known for having the best!"

Gilbert's cackle was loud and extended, leaving Alfred to wander his eyes around the room. Nothing had changed, of course. On the top of his dresser, his action figures stood, ranging from Marvel characters such as Captain America- which happened to be his favorite- and the colorful animals from his child-hood show, Pokemon. Under that, his drawers were featured, stuffed and hanging open to their full capacity, plaid boxers and dorky turtlenecks years old hanging from their edges. All of the clothes he actually wore stayed on his floor, so he'd find them easier. Pretty smart idea, if you him.

Spread around his walls, he had various posters. But his favorite was on the right of his window. There was a bodacious, blond actor posing in a cowboy suit. He was placed atop a great steed, running off into the horizon with the hero looking back with a wide grin. Funny; he looked a bit like the slim figure pacing around in the house he could see outside the glass of his window frames-

Wait. What? Alfred's blue orbs zoomed in on said shape, only to be surprised at what he saw. Across the way, there was indeed the form of a human, though they seemed terribly like a mix of a male and female. The flat-chest made the curious American fall closer to the barrier keeping him from the sight, and he soon realized it was simply a lithe man moving around the cavern of his bedroom. It wasn't just the male's tired but quick movements that kept him focused, but the fact, from what he could see, this person seemed oddly... beautiful. Of course, that was weird to say about another boy, but it was true 110% in this case. The man wore a loose-fitting vest over a button-down shirt, accompanied by a pair of khaki pants that, while typically unfitting and frankly, unattractive- he was able to wear as if they were a pair of designer jeans.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the blond-man-who-resided-in-the-next-house's hands began inching down his body, touching every curve and dip and groove visible through the distracting clothing. Alfred couldn't help but stare as the man began tugging at the hem of his sweater vest, slipping it up his chest and over his head. When it popped off, his hair was mussed and twinged, as if someone had been pulling at it in fists. Alfred about commented to himself what messy hair this mystery person really had, until he caught his breath as the first buttons on the bottom of his white-long sleeved were popped from their holes and freed, the tiniest bit of milky skin from his lower abdomen poking through. And oh god, was that... a tattoo? Not only was the man dead sexy, he even had a fucking tattoo that resided on the low part of his right hip. It wasn't a necessarily large tattoo, but neither was it small. Bonus points, man. It was simply a black-and-white, smartly shaded soccer ball, two wings sprounting from its sides. While it wasn't anything special... damn it was attractive.

"Hey, Jackass!"

Alfred was so RUDELY ripped from his sight when the crimson-eyed student yelled as loudly as he could into the receiver, catching his slight attention.

"What? I'm busy," Alfred excused, biting his lip when he noted the buttons were getting snagged in their holes of the other's shirt just to tease and torment him as he watched heatedly. "There's someone in the next house over.."

"Is she cute?"

"I can't say it's a she... but, yeah. You could say cute."

The male now had his dress- shirt free, and his little nubs showed through. He neatly folded the unused articles, tucking them away in a hamper for later. And now the zipper came undone.

"Really? Get me pictures! I _need _to see who could make Mr. Asshole fawn so badly! You went silent for minutes!"

Slowly, as if waiting for the entire world to stop and behold this sight, the metal circle was free, greatly loosening the waistband of the khakis. The male dipped his hand inside the free space, wiggling his hips so the fabric fell down out of sight, and he was left standing in his briefs, the skin down to his knees showing. "_Holy hero fucking Jesus Christ of all that is good and holy."_

"I have to go, Gil. See ya' at school, tomorrow."

"Hey! Don't you dare hang up-!"

_**Click. **_

The briefs began slipping down his thighs, and, with the one being observed facing away to fold his clothing on the top of his bed, he had absolutely no clue what events were taking place. And delicately, as if Alfred's gaze would break the male's frame if he stared too eagerly, he trailed down the sweet, angelic skin. From the craning neck, glancing down at his clothing being neatly prepared to be put in its spot to be washed at a latter date, to his shoulders which hunched as he leaned, to the grooves in his sides that formed an attractive curve, to his lower back that led to the sweet and awaited-

Emerald met sky-blue, and Alfred soon noticed he had been caught. In the act. Taken red-handed. There was no joy for him left. He had been seen peeping, and now he'd be shunned forever. The blond he should have walked to the house of, torn down the door from its hinges and taken the man right in his spot wouldn't talk to him ever again. He'd probably go to lengths to avoid Alfred by any means possible. He'd call the cops! Alfred would be ruined. All because he had been spotted.

Smart idea time. Alfred dove to the floor in a panic, bumping his head on the corner of his dresser. The reddening spot began to throb when he hit the floor face-down, cuddling to it as if it would make it all go away. He had no nerve. How could he look up and see that perfect body hating him? It was a risk he had to take.

So the American slowly crawled to his hands, raising to his knees, and set his nose on the edge of his windowsill. There was a gruel scent from the dust sprinkled along it's edge, which he ignored and trained his sights on the darkened window of the male. The curtains were drawn shut. But there was no one mad. No one shouting. No one stomping over to flash him the bird. He had seen the sexy, and made it through!

With a content sigh, the pupil collapsed to the floor, a goofy and silly smile plastered on his lips. Just from that one sight... Alfred F. Jones thought he felt love.

It might have been lust.

But then again, love sounded like the better option.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading, and review, please! **_

_** ~Kitkat**_


	2. Seducing the Sub

** Rating: T (Language, Sexual suggestions)**

** Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters. **

**I'm back with another chapter! After only one day, I know it's a bit quick, and I can't promise I'll be this fast for the other chapters, but I'll work as hard as I can. **

**Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. It made me happy! I thank you all for reading this, and I'll happily update if people continue. **

**Like I saw a few say, they saw this movie and adore it. I'm here to say that, to fit our plot and make it more original, the basic idea of the movie will remain but our own plot-line will be added.**

**Bunches of my favorite clips or scenes will be added, nothing important will be taken out, but scenarios will be added, and jobs and ages will be altered. I hope this doesn't impair your judgment on this story, however. Like I said; it's the same plot, every major thing happens (it may occur differently, though) and it will be longer and more will happen! **

* * *

Insomnia was the worst disease to catch the night before a test. Questioning why it's not simply a condition? Because when you have insomnia to the level Alfred did, there was no cure. You were simply left to sit there and stare at the ceiling of your room, images of the most amazing thing you'd ever witnessed playing in your mind. Over and over and over. And these images left you awake _all night_. So even when you try to fix your insomnia you had just acquired from the sight you'd just beholden, your imagination continued to keep you awake. Pestering.

Of course, this led to Alfred laying with his head on his desk in 1st period, his baggy eyes staring at each math problem as if they were written in a foreign language. He couldn't focus enough to even begin to understand anything happening around him. Within a few minutes, Alfred's eyelids began to flutter, and despite his own wishes, he soon fell asleep.

_"Hey, Alfred..." _

_ There was no voice coming from the person in front of him. Yet he knew exactly what this person was saying. It was an odd sensation, watching those perfect pink lips move, a small smile spread across his face. And glancing down his body, he could see the other was nude. _

_ "I know you were watching me the other night," __h__e mumbled, looking down with a dark blush. The American blond simply wanted to grab him and throw him down and pound- _

_.__..That'd be saved for later. _

_ For now, Alfred couldn't help but move his hands closer, fingers curling in anticipation. He wanted to know so badly what the boy was going to say next. That reminded Alfred. The boy had no name. But he looked awfully like... a Loki. __Therefore,__ the American decided his name was Loki. _

_ "And I'm flattered you did. But I know you must have wanted more... so you may have me. Take me all you wish." _

_ Those words made Alfred's muscles tense. Was he... serious? It didn't matter, because now the hungry glint in the teen's eyes flared and he lunged, transferring all of his body weight into pinning Loki on the floor, who was silently staring up at him with those green eyes that were sure to sparkle. Loki's fingers hid his mouth in embarrassment, and he looked to the side, his lips moving softly. _

_ "Just be gentle..." _

_ Alfred shook from side-to-side, perplexing him. His shoulder began twitching, and it felt as if a needle was violently pushing into the side of his nose. Loki didn't seem affected, however, and he turned his eyes up to stare at him. "I'm going to drag you down the hall and push you out the window." _

_"What?" Alfred asked, bewildered. _

_ "You're going to be late!" Loki snapped, before his image began fading and disappearing before Alfred's very eyes. Soon, he became a piece of printer paper with black smudges spread around its perimeter. _

"Fuck this. I'm going to class." An angry voice informed the people around it, and the soles of the person's shoes made a squeaking sound as he turned to leave the classroom. The person was stopped by another male, who said in a desperate voice,

"No, Lovi! He's waking up already! Just wait a bit longer, _mi tomate~_ We can go together!" Antonio's clear accent flooded the room as he tugged needily on the Italian's sleeve. "On a second thought, I'm leaving, _amigos~_ Lovi and I have health next, so I'm going with him! Good luck!" And with that, he let himself be dragged as he clutched onto the boy he adored.

Alfred wiped at the area around his mouth, the drool collected spreading across his sleeve. Well, it wasn't a big deal. He had just slept through his entire period during a unit test in calculus. What better way to end his high school career. He couldn't help but blame the cutie, for suddenly popping up and giving him that kind of show two months before he graduated high school. Besides, how old was the man? A couple years older? One or two? Shouldn't he be working, too? And not stripping for perverted seniors?

Yeah, that's the way Alfred saw it.

"Passing time has half a minute left, sleeping beauty, if you don't want to be late." Gilbert nudged Alfred's side with his elbow, looking at his blond companion. "Franny and I awesomely stayed back just to wake you!"

"I told you to refrain from that dreaded nickname_,_" Francis fought back, and folded his arms elegantly across his chest. "...Giligan."

"Don't go shooting there!"

"I thought you said we'd be late?" Alfred laughed, pushing himself from his chair and paying heed to the students who had all sat themselves before the bell rang. "Or do you not care?"

Francis and Gilbert both exchanged a grin, shrugging. "We have a substitute anyways."

* * *

By the time the trio had found themselves crashing through the door-way, class was already three minutes in, students were still giggling and talking amongst themselves heatedly while role was being taken, and their seats remained open for the class period. Gilbert was first in, getting an excited giggle from Lovino's brother, Feliciano, who hurriedly ran and embraced the albino. "I thought you were gone!" He grinned, happy the other had indeed arrived and not remained absent for the day. Feliciano had quite a few friends, but he tended to stick with Gilbert the most of them all, remaining oblivious to the obvious reach-outs of his admirers and male pals. He even ignored his treasured older brother for the Prussian, much to Lovino's dismay.

Francis was next to appear, though he was ignored by all. Most knew him to be a cheesy foreign student who would stop at nothing to win the hearts of the entire school, so he tended to be quite mocked by many of the students in the school. He simply handed a rose to the girl in the front row, who cocked her head, not knowing the name of Francis Bonnefoy, and threw it to the ground. Without looking at her twice, the blond took his seat, sniffing dramatically. Really, Antonio, Francis, Gilbert, and Alfred were quite ignored. They belonged in the nerd group of the school, their only real friends being Lovino and Feliciano, though the brothers had their plain-to-tell favorites.

And finally, when Francis had succeeded in finding his way through the door, Alfred stumbled in, lugging his binder which had just spilled its contents onto the floor outside the hall. He collapsed onto the nearest desk, the items in his arms spilling out like a waterfall. He quickly began throwing each item into its spot, though it was all messy and unorganized. Still, it had all fortunately made it back in his binder, so he was prepared for his class. Though knowing his English class and how they reacted to subs, they'd get no work done, anyways.

"And the reason why you're late?"

Alfred glanced, up coming face-to-face with a tie billowing in the front of his eyes. And as he trailed his eyes upwards, he could take in a stern, clenched jaw, followed by turned down lips. And just above that button nose were those same familiar green eyes staring straight back at him.

"_Loki?_"

"My name is Mr. Kirkland, and I'd appreciate it if you took your seat and filled out a referral. You were late by quite a long time, so I can only assume it was purposeful," Mr. Kirkland's eyes weren't shining like Alfred expected. Far from it. They were cold and calculating, unforgiving to whatever shenanigan anyone brought him. But one thing the American knew, this couldn't be his neighbor. Not the one he had witnessed sensually dressing at the house across from his. Not this short, old teacher!

And that accent. What was he? Cockney? English? Australian? What was that other accent again? Oh, yeah! The one Matt had! Canadian.

But scanning lower and lower along this man's body, he could see the specific curves and handles he had noticed the night before. The way he looked under the slightly-baggy suit he now wore. The way his hand was automatically placed at his hip when he wanted to balance himself.

The fact he had noted these particulars scared even Alfred. And even if there were look-alikes, the hair, the shape of his body, and the height were all the same. From what he could remember and what he could see.

He continued to train his sights on Mr. Kirkland, still unbelieving of the fact that this man, grouchy as he was, was possibly his neighbor; a neighbor so fine he'd be willing to do anything for one night with him. Not that that was likely, anyways. Despite his irritative attitude, was indeed gifted with looks, beautiful even, and not only that, his body was incredibly intriguing; at least for Alfred, who had the advantage to see him in such a state; a state that people would only get to see unless they were on the most intimate of levels.

He definitely did have a thing for blonds, and considering that there was a blond beauty right there, smack dab in front of him, he could not help but just stare.

"Well? Hurry up, boy, and explain." A crabby voice cut into his evaluations and Alfred was at a stump at what to say.

"Er, uhh..." He could not think, stumbling on any words that managed to come out. "Uh, I..." He heard a sigh, obviously from the sub, who rolled his eyes at the distressed Alfred.

"Never mind, just get to your seat. I'll give you a warning for now, but next time, try not to be late." He heard say, practically revelling in relief as he made himself to his assigned desk.

Alfred was still struggling to keep his mind to himself by the time he had taken his seat, just diagnal from Gilbert, whom was on sharing the desk with a very shy asian girl. And before he could react, Gilbert was on him, hanging on his shoulder with an excited smirk. Though the teen was still distracted, unable to rip his eyes away from the questionable foregin preparing for their lesson for the day.

"So who was he?" The Prussian teased into Alfred's left ear. "You left so suddenly, I didn't even get all the dirty details! What'd he look like?"

"...He was blond. And... he had green eyes. And... rather thick but intoxicating eyebrows." Alfred explained, his own eyebrows creasing into a frown. Gibert's eyes glanced at the sub warily.

"How'd you even see 'im? Sitting in the living room? Eating?"

"He was... changing...taking off his clothes..." Alfred tentatively said.

Gilbert was quiet for the longest part of a minute, his grip tightening on the scruff of Alfred's neck, and the blond actually began to worry he'd be suffocated for creeping on his neighbor. But then again, he already knew Gilbert had been involved in a few different sexual acts this year, and the other had broken into the girl's locker room more than once this year. He was known as a pervert just as widely as Francis, though it was more of the story of the 'white haired ghost who preyed on everyone.' (Even being known around the school, somehow the boys were still losers.)

Suddenly, in a very swift second that send the world crashing, Gilbert's laughter erupted from him, startling Mr. Kirkland who had been scribbling away at the chalkboard at the head of the class. He dropped the shaved down rock, as it clattered to the floor, and he bent to retrieve it. Under the peak of his shirt, Alfred could barely make out the black ink of a very prominant-

"Al!"

The chair gave a loud squeak against the floor, and suddenly the legs had given out and tilted. Just like the chalk before it, the chair became a scattered heap, soon followed by the teen who just hadn't learned when too much leaning resulted in falling. Alfred landed face-first, his limbs flying out around his sides. The girls around him witnessing the events cackled wickedly, thoroughly amused they had seen the student they looked down on injure himself. And for no reason, at all.

Alfred's head continued to spin as he was assisted to his feet by the Frenchie, wavering as he struggled to take in all that had just happened. He had seen it. That _had_ to be it. No way in motherfucking hell had that not been exactly what he had kept his eyes peeled for. Any lingering doubts were pushed away to the side, as what he had just seen was confirmation.

Mr. Kirkland gathered himself, checking to make sure his supplies were in order and he hadn't lost any of the teacher's items. At least he was honest with himself about his priorities; keeping his employers happy above the serviced. Finally, he decided to give a quick study of Alfred's condition, nodding when he was assured the pupil was fine, and brushed it to the back of his mind. "Take your seat."

The American didn't budge, even when prompted by his classmates. He couldn't help but feel undying amazement of the past two days. First, not only had he witnessed the previous nights events, but now this! Mr. Kirkland's glare was getting intense, however, and Alfred shrunk away, obediently following after Francis to his seat in the front row. He'd just have to wait until after class to tell his friends his assumptions.

* * *

"Remind me why you ended up falling?" Trays collided, and one of the bits of slop placed in a tall mountain on Gilbert's tray, fell to the table. Oh well; not like it'd be eaten anyways.

Alfred's cheeks darkened, and he pressed his chin to the palm of his hand, leaning over along the surface of the lunch-table. Student were bustling around them; finding friends, buying food, doing work, gossiping, shouting, fighting. Anything you could think of. Usually it'd be a distracting amount of activity, but he was too unfocused to let it change his mood. "I, uh... saw something on Mr. Kirkland."

Gilbert choked on the milk he had been guzzling, his crimson orbs disbelieving when he looked at Alfred. Francis simply laughed, waving a teasing finger in the air. "Oh, naughty American~ Going for older men now, oui?"

"No! It's not that! I just... saw something I recognized. A tattoo... to be specific." Alfred laughed nervously, wondering if he'd be caught. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the thought of Kirkland listening in.

"So our substitute teacher comes out to be a daredevil of sorts," Francis purred, leaning over with a sly smirk. "And with a body like that, I can't help but imagine what he goes about doing at night. A dirty little prostitute, hmm?"

Gilbert burst into a laugh, shaking his head at the comment that sure wasn't going to disperse from his mind at any point. "Seriously? I know the teacher was pretty attractive, but he completely fits the nerdy gay stereotypes."

"Ohonhonhon, so you noticed it as well? Those eyebrows of his were quite ridiculous, too~"

"I know, right? Oh, and-... Al?" Gilbert began to noticed Alfred's loss of attention, waving his fingers in front of Alfred's eyes. "Hey, Al! Don't ignore me!"

The American simply sat back, continuing to space out as he focused on the wall ahead. It _had_ to be him. "Don't be obnoxious."

"What's wrong with you? Cat got your tongue? Or are you still thinking of Kirkland's tramp stamp?"

Slowly, Alfred nodded, his eyelids snapping open very suddenly. "I know exactly where I know the ink job from."

Francis raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer to hear the answer to their questions. "And where would that be from, mon ami? A character of yours you like from one of your precious comic books?"

Alfred gave a shake of his head, averting his eyes. "No, I...just... saw it last night..."

And at the same time, Gilbert and Alfred had the same click of their minds.

Mr. Kirkland was indeed an interesting character that Alfred had indirectly gotten to know _very_ well.

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**If you have any suggestions or comments, leave it in the reviews. **


	3. The Legend of King Arthur

**Rating for this chapter: T+ (Language and sexual situations)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the Girl Next Door 2004 Film**

**Kitkat is back with another installment of the Brit Next Door! Thank you for reading this!  
I'd also like to give a special thanks to my editor/beta reader/idea person, Mars (Spamanomano) She came up with this entire fanfiction and simply forced my to write it, and was the one who saw the movie first and introduced me to it.**

**This chapter is the longest one so far, and I can't promise they'll all be this long, but I'll try to make them all that length!**

**If you could review this, I'd be appreciative. Thank you!**

* * *

Having gym last period could be a killer. First of all, after a day of sprinting from one class to another, running to your locker and back, and having to fit in time to talk to your teachers in 5 minutes was hard enough, but then having to deal with a screaming teacher barking on your heels to run faster for an hour and a half? Killer.

Not only that, but the excitement in people just vanished. Gone like a ghost. It was hard to participate in any sport with girls spending their time trying to find the shortest pair of shorts they could to seduce the attention of any guy they would partake to liking, or the guys thinking they were too cool to try and standing in the corner playing cards until the team vs team games ended. Then there were the rare species like Alfred, who wanted to play a good game of football or soccer at any point in the day. These were the people who had ease in sports; able-bodied and forever young. Though most of these wanted to be professional sports athletes, while others like the American would rather take their time learning to become a lawyer. But alas, that was another topic.

And the final and one of the worst reasons? The allotted 3 minutes to change before the end of the day. Which was always almost missed, so instead the high schoolers got 1 minute to change, and the rest of the 5 minutes before the buses left. Quite a tight schedule.

Of course, Alfred's class had once again missed the ringing of the bell to head inside the locker rooms, and he was stuck with 1 1/2 minutes to change if he wanted to get to his lockers. And yet, knowing this, the sandy blond did nothing to hurry. In fact, he was going slower than he ever had before, taking a full minute just to strip himself of his baggy basketball shorts. Just like lunch, the student was lost in his thoughts.

_Mr. Kirkland is the one I saw, _He repeated once more in his mind, a frown evident on his face. He finally pulled one of his jean-legs over the curling toes of his foot, and wrenched it over his legs messily. _It had to be him... who else would have that same tattoo? _Alfred ran a hand through his hair, expertly avoiding the annoying cowlick that stood proudly atop his hair. Overhead, a bell chimed quite loudly in 4 high-to-low spurts, signaling the end of class and the start of passing time; which, in this case, was the end of the day's. Right before you got to go home. Alfred only paid half a mind to it, slightly hurrying his movements, as his mind flickered back to the image of Mr. Kirkland bending over, ready to retrieve his chalk. And the edges of his shirt pulling up ever so much he saw the outline of his slim body and the beginnings of ink etched into his side-

"'Ey, Slack-off! School ended!"

The boy jolted up, his pants still hanging half off of his legs and laying on the floor. Alfred's teacher stood at the entrance of the locker room, whistle hanging from his neck. It looked like he had just blown it. Funny, the blue-eyed teen hadn't even heard. "Sorry!" He stumbled out, standing up and hurriedly gripping his pants and pulling them up his hips. He'd just have to wear his PE shirt home. There was no time to change.

Grabbing his binder he brought daily to class, Alfred jumped to his feet and began sprinting out of the locker room. He was half-way to the door when the back of his neck was roughly grabbed by his gym coach, and he was frozen in his spot.

"Hey, y'kay?" The gruff voice inquired, the hairy face of the man belonging to it looking worried in that totally tough man kind of way. "You seemed out of it."

"Yessir," Alfred answered back, looking towards the exit longingly. He needed to get to his bus before they leaved. The humming sound of the motor vehicles aligned alongside the school was very clear, signaling they were ready to leave. Dammit, he had to hurry. "I promise I'm fine. My bus is leaving-"

"Look, I know from teacher's lounge today, that blubbering substitute had some problems with you and the other delinquents today," The man nodded, sporting his information to the fullest as if it was a prideful title. "So if he comes back tomorrow, and gives you any problems, tell me. I'll deal with 'im."

Alfred tapped his foot impatiently, throwing glances to the departing buses anxiously. If he didn't get on, he'd have to walk home. An hour in the dying heat? Uh-uh! He didn't think so. "Yes, thank you, sir."

"Now, go catch your bus and don't be late!"

The American grinned, agreeing full-heartedly, as he began to sprint away as quickly as possible, waving over his shoulder to the kind teacher. "Yeah! I promise!"

...And that was another promise Alfred had broken.

Seeing as he was left in the dust clouds abandoned by the buses when he had finally gotten out the doors, his three friends hollering out the window as they departed in a laughing fit over the fact the day-dreaming teen had missed his ride home completely. The boy was shocked as he stood, silently watching them depart. There was no way home, now. The heat overhead was blaring, and he'd be kicked out of the school in minutes. There really wasn't anywhere to wait for his parents to come pick him up, and besides, they didn't get off for another hour.

_Ugh_, He thought to himself, plopping down on the stairs leading up to the gym doors of the school. What the hell do I do now? Alfred propped his chin on his wrist, angrily puffing curses at everything in the world he could blame. His gym teacher for holding him back. His clothing for not letting him change fast enough. Himself for spacing out. That fine piece o' ass for invading his mind-!

Mentioning the not-so-sweet teacher, here Mr. Kirkland appeared, lugging along his lunch bag and briefcase he had stuffed in the back of the classroom prior to their lesson. It was humorous to watch, the grouchy man struggling with his own things as he made his way to his car stationed on the other side of the parking lot. The student knew he should offer to help his elder, just as he had been taught he was obligated to do, but for crying out loud, this teacher was a nut-job!

...Then again, Loki wasn't.

"Yo, Mr. Kirkland!" Alfred slammed to his feet, grinning crookedly. His hand flailed above his head, giving an overly enthusiastic wave. "Hey, over here!"

That was enough to get the blonde's attention, and the sub looked over at Alfred questioningly. These few moments proved enough to turn Kirkland's world upside down quite literally. Soon, he found himself slipping on a pile of rocks stacked in the middle of the road, his feet unable to get a good grip. The dress shoes blanketing his feet gave out, and he tumbled to the ground, supplies and all. Papers and pencils and pens and markers flew, scattering across the asphalt and much of Mr. Kirkland's body. Alfred couldn't help but snort, knowing now they had both fallen today as a result of each other. Eh, no teasing or mocking towards him!

The blue-eyed assistant sprinted as quickly as he could to the man's side, offering a hand out tenderly. "Need some help?" He chuckled, cocking his head to the side.

Mr. Kirkland stared up at him, silent. Heat began rising to his face at a rapid rate, flushing his neck and head thoroughly. He denied the hand, instead falling to his hands and knees to retrieve the lost items. "I'm a grown man, I can do it myself." He excused, stumbling on his words as he did so. Alfred rolled his eyes, dropping down to begin gathering everything that had been discarded. He was glanced at skeptically by the other male, though he continued to ignore it, intent on aiding his teacher, despite his wishes.

Soon, all was cleaned and replaced, which oddly reminded Alfred of earlier in his second period classroom. Mr. Kirkland had loaded his things into his trunk, preparing to head back home. He then did notice Alfred had stayed behind quite a bit after school.

"Is there a problem?" The man inquired, tilting his head.

"Eh? What do you-...Oh." The pupil chuckled, embarrassment setting in on his features. "I-I kinda... y'know... missed the bus? ...Haha..." His hand inched itself to the rear of his head, mussing his hair when his fingers ran through it in an anxious manner.

Mr. Kirkland's easily-irritated persona had been intact all day. Not once had Alfred ever seen the hint of happiness or glee from him. Only yelling, order, and more yelling. Yet, now a smile broke through onto his lips, surprising him greatly. Of course, it was a mocking smile, but it still counted!

"Do you have a ride?"

Alfred shook his head, looking quite down.

"...Would you like me to drive you?"

Alfred caught his breath, staring at the other with calculating eyes. He was a teacher, what was he gonna do? Kidnap him? Ha. Even if he tried, Alfred was still taller, stronger, and muscular, and could easily overpower Mr. Kirkland if anything were to happen. You never know, he might even get lucky on this drive home.

The thought made him grin smugly, and he subconsciously nodded. "Sure thing, Mr. K! I could use it!"

Kirkland's eye twitched at the nickname, and he held a hand up to silence him. "I'd appreciate it if you called me by my _proper_ surname." He grimaced, and unlocked the car door. Alfred took the signal, and he let the passenger side door slip open so he could climb into the cushioned seats. He relaxed back into the soft fabric, grinning in excitement over the fact he was indeed in the other's car. Mr. Kirkland slipped in after him soon following him slamming the trunk, and rested in the car the same.

"But it's too long to say," Alfred whined, a faux pout etched across his face. "C'mon, don't you have another name I could call you?" Instead of the submissive answer the man expected, he was instead met with a sarcastic snort, Mr. Kirkland turning in his seat to back up from the space he was parked in.

"You may call me _Mr. Kirkland_." The tattooed blond insisted, and he pulled out into traffic on the highway, directing himself the same way as the other cars. "I'm your teacher, mind you."

"But we're out of school!" He fought back, his eyebrows knitting. Alfred folded his arms defiantly. "And it's not like you're my real teacher. You were just a sub for a day. Don't you introduce yourself to people after meeting them?"

Mr. Kirkland scoffed, turning his eyes briefly to face his student. "That's the trick. I introduce myself to adults. Not cocky, insolent brats." When Alfred feigned hurt, he sighed. "If I ever see you again in the future, I might tell you. But you don't graduate for weeks."

"But I really wanna know your name!" Alfred pressed, bouncing in his seat. "Tell me just this once! I'll even call you Mr. Kirkland the rest of this ride!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No way in hell."

"Pleeeease?"

"I said no!"

"Please Please Please Please Please Please-"

"It's Arthur! Alright?"

Alfred blinked at him at first, but gradually he began to beam. "That's a name I'll have to remember, Arth-...Mr. Kirkland." He smiled innocently at Arthur's obvious displeasure.

Ah, Arthur. The name of the person he was in love with. Or... at least in love with his body. After actually meeting the stuffy old man, he wasn't sure he'd ever actually come to enjoy him. But after interrupting the class the entire period, purposefully dropping his books rather loudly on the ground, squeaking his desk and chair, and tweeting like a bird through all of class, he had really come to enjoy irking him. Even if Arthur didn't enjoy it, damn it was fun for Alfred. The way he flushed every time, steam seeming to fume out of his ears and pour through the room, and the way his voice raised an octave as he scolded the American amused him to no end.

Arthur disturbed his thought process when he hit the top of his head, making the taller man flinch.

"What neighborhood do you live in?" The blond questioned, raising a thickened brow.

Alfred about told him he should know, then came to his senses as he remembered Arthur had no clue they were neighbors. A nice surprise, hmm? "Keep going until you hit 53rd. Turn left, and then head towards Maplewood. I'll tell you when we get there."

"That's rather convenient," Arthur nodded, his fingertips drumming on the rubber covering the steering wheel.

"How so?"

"Nothing, really. Just a shorter drive for me following. Which means I have more time when I get home to prepare for..." The man trailed off, coughing. His cheeks reddened and he glared at the road ahead.

Alfred's curiosity had been inflamed now. "For what?"

"I have company coming later. That's it."

"Parents?"

"A girl, actually."

And just like that, Alfred's dreams were crushed.

* * *

When Alfred stepped out from the car, he bid the shocked Brit (he had learned the man's country-hood during their ride with his small-talk) a solemn farewell as he stepped up to the mat of his house. Arthur had parked in his own drive-way that Alfred had simply walked from to his home from, and now his blue eyes watched the blond unload his things and stomp into his home. From what the man had said, he had been living there about a week.

Frustration overrode the teen and he slammed his fist into the wall next to the door, groaning rather loudly. He didn't know what he was feeling, exactly. Pent up anger, mixed with loss, mixed with a strange jealousy. A girl? The fucking hot, British blonds were _always_ straight. Why not gay once in a while?

...Well, besides the singer he idolized named Niall- though he was Irish, but close enough in his eyes- Arthur had been the first... but still! It wasn't fair!

Fed up with his emotions, Alfred found himself soon sprinting to get to the back yard, hopping the fence instead of unlocking it. It was rather low, anyhow, so there wasn't a problem for the athletically-obsessed male. He picked up the nearby basketball from its place in the grass. It had lost air from its time sitting out in the weather that had pattered it with rain and wind, but it wasn't too bad. He could at least throw it in the air. Which he did, as he began dribbling it, coming up with another reason to get angry as he did.

"Stupid Francis. Telling me he was a gay prostitute."

Swish.

"Stupid Arthur, being so damn sexy."

Swish.

"Stupid Gilbert. For... being Gilbert."

Swish.

"Stupid ball! You just won't be normal!"

At that, he spun on his heels, chucking it as hard as he could at the house. He waited, expecting to hear the bouncing impact of it slamming against its face. Instead, there was a high pitched screeching, and the sound of a body collapsing in the bushes to the right of their back door. Alfred tensed, frozen. Soon, the body made itself evident as his half-brother, crumpled in a broken frame. He must have hit him...

Damn. That'd hurt. Oops.

"Matt!" He yelped and hurriedly charged to him. Hands were grabbed, and in seconds he had successfully pulled the boy to his feet. Matthew was shorter and a lot slimmer than Alfred, being close to nothing. He was scrawny and shy, though he could still pack a punch. Not that he would hurt anyone. Usually, he sat to the side and let Alfred handle his problems as the overprotective brother did, but he could still stand up for himself and others if he wanted to.

"God, Al. What was that for?" He grimaced, staring up at him with a pained expression. Matthew was more peeved than anything he hadn't been watching, but now his abdomen where he had been struck throbbed like a bitch. "Were you trying to kill the ghosts again?"

This time, it was Alfred's turn to frown, teased once more for his fear of the supernatural and occult. Goddammit, Matt could pull the wrong strings when he wanted to. "I didn't know you were there! Well, it's kind of obvious why not. Were you trying to be a ninja again?"

"Are you trying to prove you're a dumb ass who really deserves those glasses?"

"At least I don't sleep with a stuffed bear!"

"At least I don't sleep with the nightlight!"

They both cracked a grin, and Alfred patted Matthew's shoulder apologetically for ramming him in the gut. Couldn't have felt good. "You okay?"

"Eh, fine. Though you could be a bit more gentle."

The American shook his head with a grin, releasing his hold. "You know that's impossible."

"Maybe so." Matthew rocked on his feet for seconds, thinking. He'd plainly forgotten something he was opting to tell his sibling, and wasn't having any luck coming up with it. "Hm..."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, right! Did Mom tell you about the neighbor? She invited him to dinner over the phone a couple days ago. He's coming over in two days. His name's... Archy?"

Alfred's blue orbs glanced at the previously thrown ball, retrieving it and instantly fixated it into his grip. There were a few twigs latched onto it, and he brushed them to the side as they fluttered down to the dirt. "Arthur?"

Matthew nodded, realizing his mistake, and smiled lightly. "It could be interesting. I caught a glimpse of him this morning, and he didn't seem much older than us. But living alone, I can't imagine he'd still be in high school."

The oldest of the two turned his attention to slamming the sphere into the hole once more, distracted from the conversation. "Yeah, maybe." He picked it up as it bounced to him, and threw it carelessly. Alfred watched it soar through the air, tearing far ahead of him quickly. Not only did it go way over the basket, but it managed to swing over the fence and crash somewhere on the next porch. Groaning, Alfred's palm found itself smashed against his face.

"Want me to get it?" Matthew asked, noticing the distress the man was giving off. "It's no problem."

"No, I'll do it." Alfred began maneuvering to the fence, and he prepped his hands to lift him up and over. He was stopped by a hovering face, scolded for attempting to do so.

"Just go ask him. I'm sure he won't mind going out to get it."

"It's easier to go this way-"

"And illegal." Matthew reminded and pointed to the front gate. "Go meet him first. Get a head start. Tell me what he's like."

Alfred smirked, his hands falling to his sides as he began jogging towards the other's front doors. "A prick!" He called over his shoulder, breaking into laughter at his brother's confused face. "I'll be back!"

* * *

"Coming!"

Alfred shifted from foot to foot, his eyes tracing the line of plants along the front of the home. They were all neatly trimmed, a barrier of very short and crisp rose bushes heading the green branches. And finally, one tulip for every other rose was placed, completing the colorful frontal area of the household. It was unexpected for Arthur to be this outgoing with his appearance for the place, but then again, he had just recently gotten it. It was probably still in construction.

The head of the house was covered by the edges of the roof drooping off the side. The walls were painted a cool baby-blue, fading from the endless buckets of water poured over it. The roof was a simple white, chipping. Sure, the house may have been nice, being 2-storied, but it had to be cheap. It wasn't that big, or painted nicely. But only one person lived here, so it'd be overly-nice for someone of standards.

There was Arthur's pear green Camry parked in the drive-way out front, along next to a very flamboyant yellow based, blue polka-dotted convertible. It was a pretty sweet custom paint job, Alfred admitted. Whoever this girl was, she knew her stuff.

He anxiously pressed the button once more. Now knowing the mystery woman was here, he couldn't wait to see her. Alfred wanted to know Arthur's type - Why? He didn't really know. Maybe he'd be able to see how much better for Arthur he was. Then again... he was just a high-school student. But still...

"Keep your pants on, I'll be a second!" Arthur's voice echoed from somewhere inside the house, following by a girl's silenced chortling.

The boy grinned, his mind wandering back to the night before. "I'd suggest you kept better track of yours~ You never know who's watching." He laughed to himself and tapped his foot in wait, keeping himself busy.

Seconds passed, and the door slowly slid open, accompanied by Arthur's flushed face. He looked nothing like he had before, dressed down from before. Now he sported normal teenage clothing; shorts and a t-shirt. Wow. Someone didn't get that prepared for a date. How could she even want to be with the old man?

...Maybe she had caught Arthur dressing too.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, stunned. He hadn't a clue what to say for a while, Alfred could tell, and he quietly waited for the owner of the home to say something. "Visiting at such an hour? Did you forget something in my car?"

"Artie~? Who is it?" The girl cat-called from inside, and soon a brunette appeared from somewhere in the back of the house. She wasn't all that dressed up either, looking somewhat like a hippie in a see-through blouse,- of course, she had a tank-top underneath- a flower in her hair, and jeans printed with colorful designs across the calves. "Oh, wow, Hi there! Elizaveta," She introduced immediately, sticking out her hand for the other to take. Someone wasn't shy. "You a friend of Artie's?"

"Alfred F. Jones," He stated back, proudly standing erect as he shook her dainty fingers with a firm grip. It didn't seem like Elizaveta had any romantic connections to Arthur. Not only was she completely and utterly out of his league, but the Briton sent her daring glances, as if she'd explode and do something wrong any second. You'd think Arthur'd be more worried about Alfred being stupid in front of her. Funny. "And um... not exactly."

"His boyfriend, then?" She bounced out. The suggestion made both of the two choke on their own spit, Arthur's cheeks turning such a dark red they were glowing, and Alfred's copying with a very light pink.

"Elizaveta," Arthur scolded. "Don't you even dare suggest-"

"Oh, come now, Artie! He's tall, good looking, pretty well built, cute, and someone who actually puts up with you." The girl feigned a sweet smile when he sent a glare her way, his fingers groping for her wrist to drag her back inside. While the comments flattered Alfred, he knew he had to say something to save him. Besides... weren't the two dating already?

He heroically jumped in the middle of her talking, pointing to himself as if he was an idol. "Next door neighbor, and his student, actually!" Elizaveta let off a depressed sigh, as if she was looking forward to the news of Arthur hooking up with some boy she had just met not even 5 minutes prior. "Or, at least I was today. Arthur was my sub."

"Arthur?" The older man narrowed his eyes, letting go of his hold to cross his arms. He leaned over in the slightest, his head level with Alfred's.

"Oh, right. Mr. Kirkland."

"Oh my god, Artie! Don't be such a douche!" Elizaveta laughed, ruffling his hair playfully. Arthur slipped away, from her grip, bitter for being touched. But with his messy hair, Alfred thought he looked pretty cute. His frown just added to the intensity of his attractiveness.

"Could you please keep your language to a minimum around minors?" Arthur huffed in return.

"I'm not a minor-"

"Shush, Alfred." The blond warned, wagging a finger accusingly at the girl. "Go back to the living room while I deal with this."

"Gotcha, doll! Bye, Alfred! Nice meeting you!" Elizaveta skipped out of view, humming an unfamiliar tune to herself with a sloppy grin. Arthur cringed at the terribly feminine nickname, though this didn't distract him from the task at hand.

"Now, what did you need?" Arthur asked, his attention now falling fully to Alfred. The American beamed, glancing past the man into his house.

"My ball was accidentally thrown into your backyard. Mind if I get it?" Alfred was met with an unexpected, disapproving silence. The body in front of him side-stepped, allowing the boy full entrance into the warm air inside the house. It smelled of lemons and coffee and cleaning supplies; nothing less than what Alfred had expected.

"Shoes, please."

Alfred found himself removing his nikes with the backs of his feet, kicking them off to the side of the porch, and he walked inside. "I'll only be a second!" He sang, and charged through the well-furnished home. While the outside was old, the inside was lavish. Each furniture piece and paint job matched or contrasted very tastefully, each room having one vase inside filled with fake roses. The floors had recently been polished- no doubt for the visitor- and his feet slapped against them quite loudly. Elizaveta was stretched out across the couch when he passed, her feet kicked up on the side of the couch. While she dressed like a gorgeous woman, god, her attitude was that of a man. Not that it was bad. Just odd for his tastes. She waved at him when she passed, and let her eyes closed, sipping a drink that looked awfully close to spilling. Arthur would give her hell for that later.

He finally fell to the back door, pushing it open under his grip as soon as he twisted the knob. It was easy to locate the bright orange ball lying in plain sight in Arthur's back garden. Damn, this guy was serious about decor. Where'd he get the time? Didn't he have to work?

Alfred grabbed the item, tossing it over the fence. He knew it'd land somewhere in his yard, and he was just glad to have it finished.

Back in the house, Alfred found himself face-to-face with Elizaveta. Arthur was no where to be found. "Bathroom?" He guessed, receiving a nod.

"I think he's nervous about me blabbering all about him to you. Why would I do that?" She grinned deviously, patting the spot next to her as she sat up. Alfred took it, stretching out across the overly-fluffed pillows. Just like Arthur to have that, too. "But then again, why wouldn't I~?"

"I've only known him 2 days. The man acts like I'm just here to invade his personal life." Alfred muttered in retaliation.

"Aren't you?"

"Well, no shit!"

The two shared mutual amusement, and the Hungarian woman rested herself against the back of the couch, seeming a bit disoriented. Probably getting close to tipsy, the teen figured.

"You drink?"

"I would, but my brother Matt would kill me."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger. Just watched my habits too closely. I guess I do the same to him."

Elizaveta smiled, and Alfred could tell she shared the feeling. "Yeah, I guess Arthur and I do the same. I talk to all of his friends and check up on him pretty often to make sure he's not getting drunk every day. And in return, he interrupts me during my times with my special guy friends."

"You two aren't dating?" Alfred frowned. In some sense, he was relieved.

Elizaveta snickered, glancing back to the direction in which Arthur had departed to. "Like I'd ever. He's too stuffy for me. I have a man of my own back at my home. I've just been his best friend since 7th grade. Being nice to the new exchange kid, right? He was popular for weeks for being British- since everyone's in dead love with them here- but when people realized his terrible anger he'd unleash on everyone, it just dispersed. I felt bad, and talked to him for a couple days, expecting nothing but an acquaintance. But soon we started hanging out at lunch and during classes, and since I had maybe 3 friends as well, we were just instant-buddies. I realized how fun it was to tease and annoy him to no ends. I'd protect him from the bullies, and he'd pretend to tutor me as a payback. I didn't need it, really, but it made him feel needed. Arthur was always pretty scrawny, and while he's bigger now, he's still not anything tough. He can stand up for himself and fight at least."

Alfred had been listening so intently to the story, he hadn't noticed a third presence enter the room. It startled only he, as Elizaveta had apparently seen his creeping on the far edge of the room. He was leaned against a wall, head bowed, and his arms and legs crossed. "Yes, Yes, you were a great friend and pitied me." He poked, smirking in the slightest when she sent him a raspberry "Are you really so intent on someone listening to you talk that you're telling my students my history?"

"You invited him into your house. What else did you expect me to do when you left the room? Keep myself entertained?" Elizaveta snorted, motioning to Arthur. "I'm done with my story, do as you wish."

Alfred brushed himself off, standing from his position and shrugging. "I gotta head home, anyways. Thanks for letting me get it." He grinned, reaching out his arms in the direction of the stuffy Brit. "Hug?"

"Like hell. Get your arse to your home."

"Fine, fine. Nice to see you, Lizzy! I hope I'll see you again!"

"I'll be here all week!" She waved back, relaxing back into her drink. "Remember, if you wanna come over and see me, just walk in. I don't mind."

Arthur scowled, and he glared to Alfred, who was already leaving the home. "If you do that, I'll have your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun, you two. I'll see you at dinner, Arthur. Bring Lizzy with you." With that, he wandered out the front door, slipping his shoes on halfway so his heels hung off the back, and started back to his room.

"No one wanted to know you?" Alfred pouted to himself, casting a glance back to Arthur's room. "Maybe you should try being nicer. I would have been your friend."


	4. Hot for a Teacher

** Chapter 4**

** Rating: M  
Disclaimer: I don't own the movie the Girl Next Door, or any Hetalia characters. I simply wrote this. **

** Ah, so, guess what? I finally watched the entire movie! And after I did, I realized I was completely off in my order that I planned to write this. Meaning I changed chapters ahead.  
Sorry for not posting. I've been having a terrible time with a break-up and making AMVs and getting my MEP parts down. However, I will be at a wedding from Thursday to Saturday, so I'll hopefully be writing that entire time! **

** Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll keep going so! **

* * *

School had been unprecedentedly entertaining. The morning had been like anything else; Alfred getting dressed and ready, eating breakfast, annoying Mattie, meeting Lovino at his bus-stop- because he lived at the end of the street-, getting talked to about Toni- even if Lovino pretended not to care about him, he talked up a storm- going to school, almost being late to all of his classes.

But, second period brought along a rather nice surprise. Alfred had found none-other but Arthur sitting at the front desk, dreading the moment he met the American.

Alfred slipped into class, smirking heavily. It was obvious he'd cause the same trouble as yesterday. Which he did, bringing up social placement and the intentions of girls and such. Arthur would get red-faced every time he answered, that much closer to sending him out into the hall. But the American knew his Artie wouldn't do that.

But at the end of class, they had all gotten the announcement Arthur would be subbing the rest of the year, as their original teacher had gotten a terrible case of the flu during her pregnancy. She'd be fine, but was ordered to rest for weeks.

This had no negative effect on Alfred _whatsoever_ .

But that was everything interesting. Gilbert had run up to him urgently that day, begging Alfred to come over after school. He wasn't leaving 'til 5, and would claim it was homework time.

Not the most believable of lies, sure...

Oh, and Francis had slipped on milk in the lunchroom. That was pretty funny. Especially when he dumped his tray all over the scariest kid in school, Sadiq. God, the blond was shaking in his boots. It was pretty funny!

School had been over like it was nothing, and soon Alfred was back up in his room. He was studying the ceiling, reliving the moments from his day. He wasn't bored, exactly. Not quite stimulated, but not quite bored.

"Alfred!" His mother screeched up the stairs, attempting to get the teen's attention. "Someone's at the door for you!"

Alfred frowned in confusion. He hadn't been expecting any visitors. Maybe he'd forgotten and invited Antonio or Francis over? Didn't seem very likely. His feet pattered, muffled by the carpet, as he stepped down to the bottom floor. Grace was standing there, smiling up at her son and pointing in the direction of the door.

Grace was a pretty woman; tall and dark-haired. Her eyes were a deep pool of blue, and she had darker skin. African-American, too. She looked exactly like her parents, who were both the children of Mozambique teens who had been brought over to the united states, though her skin was very light and simply tanned. Grace was only his step-mom, though.

Alfred's father, Robert, gave him his appearance He had very light blond hair, and sea-green eyes that seemed to mimic the movements of the pitchy water itself. Robert wasn't anything special, being no more than 5'8 so Alfred easily towered over him. It didn't matter much about height; Rob was never home. Not since Matthew's mom left him about 5 years ago. He had gone out often, never drinking or spending money, but working. He seemed to hate coming home. But when he did, he showered the kids and his wife in gifts and love, taking them out to dinner on the extra money he earned.

Grace aimed herself back to the kitchen where she was cooking, tossing her head over her should to wiggle her eyebrows at Alfred. "Don't have her stay too long, dear. I don't want to come up to your room and find you doing anything bad, you hear?"

Alfred nodded, bringing himself to the front-door. He was surprised to see no one other than Elizaveta standing there, hand on her hip as she waited for him patiently.

"There you are!" She grinned and clasped her hand's on Alfred's cheeks. "I've been waiting ages! How long does it take you to come down, anyways? Did I interrupt anything?"

The teen shook his head, rolling his eyes at the suggestion. "Wanna talk upstairs?"

"Out here's fine. I won't be too long."

And so they did. Elizaveta settled Alfred down and talked about her day non-stop, not forgetting to leave out ONE important detail about how she messed with Arthur's things, disorganized the house, drank, invited a friend over to watch a movie, and searched through his room.

"And guess what I found?" She smirked. "I can see inside your room perfectly from Arthur's. It's like an aerial view. I had to run over and tell you that. I thought it'd work to your advantage."

"Like... how?"

"Like, peeking on Arthur doing something embarrassing and video taping it! His face would be priceless." The girl laughed, resting her hands on the concrete behind her, and she leaned back. "Haven't you ever thought of doing that?"

Alfred pretended to be in thought for moments, and shook his head, though the obviously devious smile implanted on his lips said otherwise. "I don't even know what I'd see," He admitted.

"Use your imagination. It's Arthur. He's bound to be doing something generally unexpected in society. He won't let me in his closet. Video tape the next time he does! I even brought you a camera!"

"Isn't that kind of... oh... I dunno... creepy?"

"Pfft, it's only for me. He won't care if it's me. I'd be doing the same if I had your room!" Elizaveta dug in her bag, drawing out a very small camera that seemed to be controlled by a remote. It's a spy camera, sorry, but it'll work, right?"

Alfred nodded, really having no idea.

"Yeah, good." She grinned in content. Alfred watched her do so, and they sat in a comfortable silence for minutes. Nothing was really wrong. They were just both out of things to say.

Elizaveta was the first to speak, and she brushed his fingers through the end's of Alfred's hair. "I'm surprised you haven't made and move on Arthur."

Alfred sat up straight, staring at her like she was a mad-man. "Huh?"

"I mean, c'mon. He's a free cutie-pie! Not only to mention that, but he wouldn't deny you. He knows he'd be stupid to do so. Say what you like, but Artie's not stupid. I can see he gets tense at the mention of you. He didn't stop _talking_ about you when he got drunk yesterday. Sure, it was all, 'Such an idiot!' and shit, but it's obvious he has an interest in you." Lizzy smiled, patting the top of Alfred's hair. "I understand if you don't have any romantic likings to him, but I think you two would be cute together. It's why I made sure to have you stay. You say you've known him a day and he's your teacher or whatever, but Arthur's only in college, he's 24, and you're, what, 18? Not that far apart. He claims he's all bi and goes on about how sexuality doesn't matter when I accuse him, but truth is? He's never had a girlfriend, or an interest in that crap. The only crush I know of that he had was a jock at school in 9th grade."

So, he was right. Arthur could have easily been gay. Or at least, accepting of the idea of a male partner. Not completely unexpected, but good.

"Anyways, I should go back home!" Lizzy raised to her feet, brushing the dirt from her rear and extending a hand to Alfred. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah!" He grinned back and shook her arm gently. "Bye!"

The girl waved to him, running back over into the house next to his. She had given him some pretty shocking news. The fact he actually had a chance... it made him shiver. Arthur crushing on him? Seemed like something that'd happen in a million years. And vice versa! Alfred wouldn't love that grumpy stick-in-the-mud.

"He's rude and brash and annoying," Alfred criticized aloud as he started walking down the pathway and towards Gilbert's. Screw it; he'd call his mom from there. "Nothing I could ever love like that. He'd hit me just for saying hi!" The more he ranted the more amused he felt, and soon he began imitating his accent and words from the class periods. "Read and write! _Read and write...! _Ha!"

He wasn't anything special.

* * *

Well, except for that body of his. Which had been proved once more to Alfred in the span of three days.

Here the American sat, eyes glued to the computer in front of him. His fingers twitched every now and again in shock. His breathing had gone ragged and uneven. And Alfred felt frozen in place.

He knew Gilbert was watching him with a crooked smirk of delight, though he never once looked his way. This... this video. How had the albino even found it? Alfred truly didn't even try to understand. He simply had been dragged up the stairs without a word as soon as he got to the house, thrown into a chair, and forced to stare at the moving figures on the device.

"This isn't real, dude..." Alfred gasped and shook his head, finally getting his consciousness back as soon as the video reached an ad half-way into the 30 minute production. He pressed the pause button, and the figures assumed their original, frozen positions on the screen. "This can't be. Arthur... he'd... He'd never do this!"

"C'mon. Look at his brows and hair. They're exactly the same! Messy and furry! How can that not be him?" Gilbert fought back, clicking play.

On screen, Arthur and another unidentified male with dark black hair resumed moving. The blond was faced down on a bed, fingers grasping the pillows underneath his head in desperation, as he was thrust into with a pair of fingers over and over. He gasped for dear life, looking as if he'd throw up at any second. But, in, y'know... a sexy way. The way his words were rounded, and his voice was exactly the same. A bit more high pitched from his groaning. But his British accent was still there.

Gilbert held his head high in pride, snickering at Alfred's near dead reaction. "See? Same voice! This means I was right, and you were wrong! Got burned by the awesome! Haha!"

"Would you shut up a moment?" Alfred snapped, jumping to his feet. They pounded against the floor rather loudly, and the chair he had been sitting on snapped back. He hardly paid attention as he cracked against Gilbert's bed and tipped onto the floor. "Look, that's not Arthur! Why would it be? He's in college, and he has a nice house, and he's a teacher and he's only like 20-something! He wouldn't have time to do this! And look, this person's a lot younger! Besides that's... that's so gross to think about! He's our teacher for fucks sake! Do you like sitting here watching an old man having sex? That's so... gross!"

"Dude, my chair!" Gilbert shouted back, ignoring his rant fully. No splintering it looked like on the rolling, office chair. That was good. "Even if he's our teacher, dude, he's younger. And yeah, I was really shocked at first but... Don't take your anger out on my things. Just because you can't see the truth-!"

He was cut off, however, by a heavily glaring face, glasses hanging off the American's nose. He looked messily pissed. ...It was kinda scary. "Give me one reason to think it's him. Then I'll believe you."

The other student grumbled, pulling himself to the screen and scanned carefully across the scene. They had left it playing for so long, there was 10 minutes left in the program, and the two figures were now fully going at it, pushing against each other heatedly. It was only a nether regions shot, at the moment, but it was slowly panning up towards their faces and torsos.

"Right... there!"

The video was paused as the pair was switching positions. Gilbert's finger pointed to a black speck. A soccer ball with wings. On the bottom blond's right hip.

"Fucking hell." Alfred breathed, falling forward to the desk. "My neighbor's... a sexy ass ex-porn star."

* * *

The bed creaked under Alfred as he twisted, facing the area where Gilbert sat. The white-haired teen was now chattering on the phone with Francis about some shit. Probably girls or sex.

"So what do I do about this?" He interrupted.

Gilbert stopped his sentence, turning his gaze to Alfred. "About?"

"Y'know... Artie..."

"Hey, Franny. Just come over. We can talk he-... Franny, don't get your panties in a bun-... Just get the hell over here!" With that, Gilbert hung the phone up and slammed it down on the computer desk. "You want my advice?"

Alfred nodded.

"Bang him."

"I want real advice," He muttered in reply, not quite amused at Gilbert's jokes.

Gilbert cracked a smirk, his fingers drumming on the edge of the chair as he leaned forward. "I'm being serious. You know he has loads of experience. And being an ex-porn star, it can't be that hard to get in his pants."

"How do I do that?" Alfred interrogated. The idea amused him; it was a nice thought for him to lose his virginity. He'd always been willing to do so- not unlike many other high school boys- he'd just never found a partner. But then again, doing it with an old dude? It might score him extra points with the story, but if the others found out it wasn't only a guy, but one of their teachers, he'd be murdered. Not to mention, Arthur would lose his job. And possibly be ridiculed by society. "It's not like I can waltz to his door and try to sex him up right then and there."

"Don't reveal that you know or anything. Just... go on a damn date! And then on the way home, when you're driving, pull over to the side of the road and admit your _'__feelings__'_. Then you're just one make out away from the greatest sex ever!" Gilbert grinned at his fantasies, standing up and slapping Alfred's shoulder. "Franny's gonna be over in a sec. I'm gonna wait with the hose and spray him when he comes to the door."

Alfred laughed, pulling himself into a standing position as he followed. "I'll get your Nerf gun and peg him from up here." He planned, as they both burst into a fit of devious cackles.

* * *

Giggling like little school girls calling their crushes, 4 boys were. Sitting with them, amused, Lovino was not.

You see, he and Antonio had been on a rather nice date together. It was, in fact, the 10 month mark of them dating yesterday, and since it was a weekday and Lovino's parents didn't know he had a boyfriend, they hadn't gotten to go on a proper date other than holding hands after school. So today, the Italian had promised himself he'd make it extra special.

A while ago, Lovino had been left with Antonio's computer alone. Not only had he searched his history to find him chatting with Francis on Facebook, he'd found out the idiot had talked about his body! The stupid bastard said all kinds of gross things, like how 'pretty his ass' was, or 'he turned him on with his frown.' Dammit, it was embarrassing!

But then his fucking mind got the better of him, making him remind himself of how inadequate he was in the whole lovey-fricking-dovey side of things. And soon Lovino found himself planning their 10 month carefully, knowing exactly what the Spaniard would want. After all, Antonio was a teenage boy, and it was obvious all that he would think about when associating his 'tomato' with anything.

Motherfuckingly hot, long, and kinky sex.

So wanting to make it all special, Lovino had spent the entire damn afternoon in a girls' clothing store trying to find a flaming red skirt and white blouse, ending up having to ask the cashier where a boy's changing room would be.

The look on her face...

Following the incident, and gathering the tall fuck-me boots and green head band from various other stores, the brunette had found himself at Antonio's home. His mother and father- both very accepting towards their son's sexuality and already knowing about Lovino's relationship with him- greeted him brightly, allowing him past with his bag to wait for Toni at the top of the stairs in his room. Of course, he wasn't escaped without questioning about his mood, his family, his school, and contents of the package, though he had simply answered the the last with, "It's a present for Graduation."

While the couple simply suggested he give it to Antonio later, Lovino quickly shook his head, denying it, and shot up to his cavern faster than they had time to talk.

And once he'd arrived, Lovino had set up the situation; making sure the door had an efficient lock, setting out the outfit he was to change in, grabbing his hand cuffs he had kept in his room for some reason(there was an undying fear they were placed specifically by the perverted French dick) and unlocking them for his use...

Before he quickly changed, leaving all underwear off and keeping the skirt as well-fitted to his body as possible. Well, it was loose around the bottom, but the top was perfectly snug to his lower hips. Even with it pulled as low as possible, it still barely came down mid-thigh. And the shirt was so tiny tucked up against his ribs, his mid-riff was completely visible and exposed. Paired with the girly headband and long, leather boots... he looked like quite the hooker.

...Oh, the things he did for Antonio.

Lovino, however, was extremely hesitant to lock himself to the bars of Antonio's metal bed. What if his parents walked in? Or knocked at the door? What if Antonio walked in and simply started laughing? The thought of him thinking it was stupid was too great. It made him want to back out of this all. Maybe he could leave now-

_**Snap. **_

And, the handcuffs were on one hand. There was nothing left to do now. The key was on the bed stand on the other side of the room. He was stuck in this situation until his lover came home. Noting this, he ever-so-slightly moved the ring of the hand cuff into place... and in the prong went. It was now or never.

Lovino had just about fallen asleep by the time Antonio got home an hour later. In a jolt, the barely-clothed teen roused himself, eyes snapping open to the burning gaze of his lover. Their eyes connected for a second, hazel burning with an embarrassed anxiousness, sea-green twirling with a sense of confusion or shock. The Italian waited for Antonio to make a move. Or to say anything at all.

However, he simply smiled and tilted his head, arms extending in the gesture of a wanted hug. "Lovi~ I'm so glad you're here!" The oblivious one greeted warmly. "Did I make you wait to long? Lo siento, mi amore! I'm here now, so we can go to Gilbert's together."

A flushing feeling entered the back of Lovino's eyes, all blood draining from his head. This wasn't at all how he'd planned.

Following the hinder in his blue-prints, the boy was dragged-after he changed of course!- to the household of the Albino whom he had come to despise the presence of, his lover not even paying heed to all the effort he'd put in. The damn cock-sucker! Now he was gathered around a small mobile device alongside those three other douches, Alfred finally grinning at the fact he had pawned the number of some old man he'd love to jerk it to, off another random-ass girl. The phone was ringing, and of course they were all three begging the poor victim on the line to pick up. This would go interesting. It was a given Lovino would just tune out. He wanted nothing to do with that crazy, stupid idea of love.

_"'Ello, __t__his is Arthur Kirkland." _

"Yo, Art." Gilbert and Francis snickered, pulling Antonio down to earlevel to explain the entire situation. He had been so plainly confused.

_"...Alfred? Is that you? I'm busy grading papers-" _

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just listen a 'sec, okay?" Alfred interrupted, switching the phone to speaker.

_"I've no time. Can't we discuss it tomorrow night at dinner?" _Antonio suppressed a laugh, holding his lips as he righted himself. It all made sense now. He slipped out to the back room with Gilbert's laptop, Lovino watching him suspiciously. Oh, if the Italian knew what he was about to watch, he'd be murdered. But it wasn't sexual!

"No, that's the whole point," Alfred whined, his lips protruding physically as he pouted. "C'mon, we gotta talk now!"

_"5 minutes, Jones. Tops. I'd like to get work done." _

"Yeah! Okay! Ready?"

_"Yes. yes. Don't waste your time. It's ticking." _

"Well, I was wondering..."

_"4 minutes 50 seconds." _

"Dude, you're actually counting?" A smack fell upon the back of Alfred's head, and he was warned to hurry up and ask. "Anyways, I was wondering... Would you like to hang with me before dinner tomorrow?"

_"Hang?"_ Arthur inquired.

"Chill! Go out! Go get some lunch or just go to the movies. Go into public with one another with the intentions to spend the day together."

_"Tomorrow? But I'll see you before dinner. We can banter then. Right now, I have to finish my work." _

"Please, Artie?"

_"No." _

"Pleaaaaase?"

_"I'm not repeating this from Yesterday-" _

"I'll say it again!"

_"I beg of you not to." _

"Then just go out with me. This once. As friends." Antonio ventured back into the room, dropping the laptop onto the bed. Gilbert cackled quietly in the background, pleased with the shocked expression placed on his lips. Lovino skeptically crept over, stealing away the electronic to go view whatever his boyfriend had been watching.

_"Whoever said I was your friend?" _

"Ooh, that hurt, old man."

_"I'm not old...! I'm barely 4 years older-!" _

"Mhm. Anyways, I'll pick you up at 4, 'kay?"

Lovino was both stunned, angry, and disgusted when he stepped back out from the closet. He about threw and stomped on the device right then and there, but Gilbert quickly grabbed it to return to safety before he could. Antonio babbled on apologetically, whining in the need for forgiveness Instead, he was dragged out into the hall, and the shouting began.

_"I never agreed to this, Alfred." _

"Yeah, love you, too, babe."

With that, the conversation was over.

And Alfred had just scored a 'date' with sex.


	5. Skating Across My Heart

**Rating: T+**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or the girl next door.**

* * *

**Well, here's one of my shorter chapters. I hope it's as long as need be, though. I tried to avoid rushing scenes, but it didn't turn out so well.**

* * *

**Hey, I may not know you**

**And this is needy**

**But it'll keep me going**

**If you review this... /Pleading**

***Edit***  
There seems to be a problem where this entire chapter is highlighted in bold. I'm sorry if you're having this issue, but the document I posted as the chapter isn't bolded. Yet, in the actual story, unless you're on mobile, the text as a whole (each word) is bolded. I'll attempt to fix this problem, and I apologize for the inconvenience. 

* * *

Alfred had never been more careful around glass in his entire life. Like, seriously. He'd been a good boy at Wal-Mart and made sure not to touch the wine bottles or figurines or fancy bowls that lined the many aisles suffocating the people walking through. There was that one time in the antique store the boy had been careful when walking through, too! Sure, he may have broken a vase, but he was still being cautious.

But now... damn. There were glass figurines everywhere. The walls were just LINED in shelves with the mini-sculptures, some hanging from strings on the ceiling, and some placed in more glass cabinets. Why was this guy so obsessed with fragile things.

The American maneuvered his body through the maze of the walk-in closet, careful to keep his overbearing frame from coming into contact from the many obstacles posing a threat of breaking. Proud thoughts rang in his head when he finally reached the door to escape the room he had ventured into to scope out.

"Haha! Bye, death-trap!" Alfred grinned, slamming the door harshly when he had exited. Behind him, shattering dolls, unicorns, fairies, and dolphins collided with the bottom of the closet, leaving shards shooting into the door. The blond froze, not daring to even look behind as he hurried to another room to search. I'll just blame the elves. He had plenty of them in there...

Really, this was all Arthur's fault. He had been the one to tell Alfred to wait in the living room while he finished dressing in the upstairs room. Honestly, if you tell a high schooler to do something like that, you know they'll do the opposite. Why would he even consider leaving Alfred alone? How irresponsible!

Another entrance to a boundless room caught Alfred's attention. He had somehow made it to the top floor, lost his thoughts, and found himself nose-pressed to the hunk of wood. Confusion instantly struck into his mind, and the boy stepped back. Maybe it was Arthur's bedroom? Oh god... that'd turn out terribly. Though funny. Alfred could already imagine the substitute's reaction when he ripped open the door, catching him in the middle of dressing. Maybe he'd catch him doing something a bit dirty, hmm? Ha, that was a nice fantasy.

But he doubted it, seeing as the room behind him containing scuffling that sounded an awful like hangers being tossed back and forth, and items being organized. Just like Arthur to have to clean his room before he went out.

So, intrigued further and wanting to see exactly what kind of rooms Arthur had in his home- who knew; maybe Alfred would be invited in more! Then he'd have to know-

He turned the knob and gently pulled.

Nothing happened.

The door was obviously locked, key and all. It wouldn't budge, no matter how hard-but-silently- Alfred ripped at it to find out the contents.

"Fuck, Art. You really are hiding something, aren't you?" He muttered and began scanning the area for a key. Where did people usually hide them? Under mats? There weren't any around, or at least upstairs. Up above the door frames? Would he even be able to reach?

Alfred snickered at his own joke, and began scanning around. There _was_ a book-case nearby, but... would he hide anything there?

The blond checked regardless; shaking the pages of several different copies to see if it was there. Nothing.

Alfred rubbed his hand through his hair, wanting to know just what he could find in Arthur's secretive rooms at a very extreme level. He leaned against the wood, his arms folding on the back of his head in a lazy fashion.

"Where would that stuffy old man keep it?" He mused aloud, sighing and casting his hands out behind him atop the bookshelf face.

_**Clink. **_

Sitting on the floor, a few inches from the soles of Alfred's feet, was a tiny, golden item, complete with teeth and an eye.

"Found it~!"

* * *

Dying was the only word that could describe Alfred at this point. As of now, he was practically on the floor, his laughter being hidden behind a heavy hand. Various items were scattered around him; ones he had found and searched through. This door was indeed attached to something secret. What exactly?

Well, a history closet would be a good title for it.

On the top shelf, Alfred had found boxes and boxes of baby and toddler pictures of Arthur. All the stereotypical poses, too. In a mini-tux, spaghetti on the head, playing out on the beach in a diaper, in the bathtub naked with his ass in the air.

Then on the second shelf, there were letters. After reading a few, Alfred had deemed them private- though it was too late for that- as they had been from his parents. But judging from the things said in the first two... Arthur didn't have that good a relationship with his parents. They were cold to each other, no informal greetings or words exchanged. He knew by now his father was paying for his house and college, which seemed extremely nice. Damn, his parents had to be loaded.

On the following shelf, high school mementos were placed, including a year-book, signed t-shirts, trophies, and various awards. Nothing to spark the boy's interest, though. He'd have to come back to find his picture.

He probably looked like a dork.

Alfred dug through the clatter of items on the floor, hidden away by a sheet. As soon as he pulled away the white piece of fabric, he could tell all was covered intentionally.

"Oh my... fucking... god."

There were sex items everywhere. Two pairs of hand-cuffs, a dildo, boxes of lube, condoms. It was all there and prominent. Through each pile Alfred dug through, he found nothing but the colorful fantasy items one could only dream of owning. Even home-made ones.

Alfred pulled a dildo from the stash, staring at the perfectly molded shape. It was still perfectly new, wrapped in the plastic it would have been factory packaged in. Actually, everything seemed to be. The only items that seemed to be open were one pair of hand-cuffs. The key was hanging from its hole, however.

The American teenager, heard clinking from the room behind him, and he was instantly reminded Arthur was still in the house. So, reacting to that, though still in complete shock at the perverted assortment locating in the uptight man's own closet, he began to load things away exactly where he found them. He dumped the condoms back in their holder, setting the beads and ropes with their pairs.

There was one item that nagged at Alfred, preventing him from shutting the door.

It was a lone tape, pushed to the very back of the small space. This wasn't good. Alfred wanted so badly to look at it, but he could hear drawers shutting, and Arthur's footsteps were nearing.

So, being the smart person he was, Alfred did the first thing he could think of.

The door slammed, he ditched the tape in his hoodie pockets, and took off down the stairs just as the blond opened the door and exited.

"The hero became a spy, today," The blue-eyed male hummed in delight to himself, puffing breaths that had gotten built up from nervousness. "And while he was working for the double team, he still made it through unscathed."

"Sounds like a bad strip of Calvin and Hobbes," Arthur commented, causing Alfred to be torn from his thoughts and see the other. "Anyroad, shall we go?"

* * *

"No, No, Art. You're gonna end up falling if you- Dammit, listen! Do I have to repeat myself every time?" Though he was cursing and judgmental, Alfred really did have a giant grin stretched out across his cheeks as he explained a step-by-step procedure to the basics of skating.

Yes, skating. The classy date Alfred had picked out for he and his companion. It had been an activity Alfred had done since he was a young kid, always enjoying the feeling of gliding along an empty skate rink. And where they used to live, he and his brother were able to go for free. It was an old rink, so the owner made it open to the public after retiring. Thinking it was run down, the old building had been avoided. Giving Alfred the perfect times to practice.

But, Jesus, the American had never met anyone so stubborn and hard to teach as Arthur. He was a teacher; shouldn't he be a good learner, by logic?

Haha, nope. Obviously not. Here he was, struggling to keep his own two feet under him as he clung to the padded walls lining the circular shape. Even the little kids were passing him. It wasn't embarrassing or anything for Alfred. He actually found it kinda cute.

Like... in the way when you hold a dog over water. And they start to paw the air as if you'll put them in. Like they're swimming. Yeah, that kind of cute. Pitifully adorable.

"If you'd explain better I'd- agh- get this!" Arthur stumbled once more. Surprise, surprise. "All you're telling me is to move my feet back-and-forth...!"

Alfred sighed mockingly, and turned his direction so that he was able to protect the back-side of the elder to keep him from slipping. "That's really all you have to do," He laughed. "Here, I got an idea."

"I have," The other corrected, straightening his body out. "Really, do you insist on using incorrect-Gyah!" He cut himself off with a yelp, the feeling of hands pressing securely around his waist. "Don't touch me, bloody fool!"

"Look, it's so much easier this way! Just focus on balancing, and I'll push you around."

"It's not going to work any differently. I don't trust you not to run me into a wall."

"Babe, I promise I won't." Alfred grinned, holding the man out at arm level. "Don't you trust me?"

Arthur tossed his head over his shoulder, glaring heavily at the American. His cheeks were turning red in shame, though he made no attempt to remove the hands. "I would if you'd stop using those ridiculous nicknames!"

"Then, off we go!"

Kicking his foot, the pair were propelled forward. Arthur opened his lips, hissing profanities as he struggled to keep his footing. The efforts simply made Alfred laugh, as he slipped his arms tighter around the shorter male's waist "Like I said, I got you."

Soon enough, the two were propelling across the floor, avoiding the other bodies that skidded around in a ring. Arthur's hands were scrunched tightly around the warm fingers that held him up, Alfred directing and pushing them in the path. The terror Alfred could see visible on the other's face was overly-amusing, and made him continue to speed up withe very stride. Though there was no more arguing or things said from Arthur for quite a bit. He really did seem to be enjoying himself, in that odd way he'd never let show through.

Compelled with the plan ahead of him, Alfred thought it to be the perfect moment to let the 'feelings of love' out he had wanted to tell. "Arthur I...I think I-"

"Watch it!"

A ringing entered Alfred's ears, making sure to slow down to avoid whatever obstacle was appearing in his way he wasn't able to see. Which proved to be the wrong choice, considering, as soon as he did, a group of teenagers out of control and spiraling collided with his back.

The shocked of it all never entered him until he found himself on the ground, taken out by a sweep to the legs. No one stopped to help him, though plenty crowded around in worry that he may be injured.

"Alfred?" The American must have been hallucinating, for he swore he found Arthur sitting atop him, touching his cheeks. "Are you alright?"

His face began to blur, mixing into a pool of colors along with the brightly-painted ceiling and burning lights. Black gathered at the corners of his vision, pulling a very deadly looking mask over his vision.

"Alfred...!"

* * *

"Nn~ Arthur~ I'm not rea-"

"Oh, you're awake?"

Torn from his images of flashy, foil packets and tapes, Alfred groaned. He hadn't been prepared for such a wake up. And when he sat up, his head was throbbing heavily. God, he felt sick. "Hey, Art? Where am I?" He glanced around, moments of recognition slipping right by him. He knew he had gone out with Arthur... skating, right? Then what?

"Ah, you don't remember?" The other asked, taking a seat at the small, vacant space by Alfred's propped feet. "Well... you totally wiped out." He paused to laugh, making the listener wince with a frown. "Then, when I couldn't arouse you, you ended up getting dragged to the party room in the back."

Alfred could really have used a spit-take effect to accompany his next line. "You tried to what me?" He choked in shock.

"Rouse? It means to... wake?" Arthur's eyebrows knit together. "I noticed you haven't paid attention in class at all the past week, but do you lack language arts skills that much?"

This plan was occupying too much of Alfred's cranial capacity. Words were beginning to jumble.

God, he needed to finish this quickly.

"Hey, hey, Art? Wanna head home?" The confused blond grinned, balancing his weight on his hands so he was able to push himself into a awkward sitting/standing position. Arthur offered him a hand, helping the other to stand without stumbling.

Alfred's footing offered him a light-headed dizziness to overtake his being. His knees wobbled threateningly, forcing him to grab onto the wall. Damn... falling with someone on top of you could really bang your head around.

Color drained from the American's face. That's right... Arthur had fallen on top of him. At any other time, he'd let his fantacies pour through his mind, just the idea of it enough to make him kinda... turned on. But now... it was a heavy tumble. He could only think of how the small man might have...

"Ah, sure." Arthur nodded, pulling Alfred's arm to encircle his neck as a support. He noticed the lack of movement between the two, and looked questioningly at the dizzy boy. "Hmm? Is something wrong?"

"Are you uh... hurt?" Alfred asked, tilting the other's head back to inspect the way his pupils were handling the light. Luckily, he didn't seem to have hit his head as well, making him sigh in relief.

Arthur scowled, swatting bitterly at the perpetrators to his discomfort. "You should go home." He ordered, blatantly ignoring the question. "Dinner is soon, you're hurt, and you should focus on yourself." With that, he began once more lugging along the heavy body.

Only then did the oblivious one acknowledge the limp the teacher sported. Even though he now knew Arthur was injured, he couldn't help but release a string of chuckles. It was amusing that the older one's pride would stand in the way of him getting help. Quite the silly act Alfred expected.

Alfred stopped once they had gotten half-way to the door, turning on an unsuspecting Brit. There was a yelp from him that caught several people's attention as he was hoisted into the air, forced to lay in the embrace.

"Put me down...!" Arthur commanded as he was carried like a bride towards the door. Many pairs of eyes trailed after them, quite distracted by the ruckus the duo caused in their long descent towards the exit. "Jones, I'll have your ass for this-"

He was cut off by a chill that bit through the air that laid stale on Arthur's skin. A shiver took Alfred's attention, and he held the other closer to his chest to share any remaining body heat left within him. "Yeah, yeah. Just... be quiet for a bit, 'kay?" He laughed, pleased with the angry reaction he earned. "I just don't want you to hurt yourself anymore. Is it your ankle?"

There was no answer he received for the longest fraction of a minute. It wasn't until he had loaded the babied man into the passenger seat, secured the seat belt to gather around his chest, and checked he was fine did he receive a nod.

"I just twisted it."

Alfred's lips pulled themselves towards the sky, pleased thoroughly that he had been entrusted with the information. "I'll take you home and be your awesome doctor, then! And I won't leave until you feel all better."

"I suppose I'm feeling better already." He sniffed.

"See? I'm already doing my job right!"

"The sooner you leave me alone, the better."

And despite the brash attitude, Alfred could secretly tell Arthur didn't really mean it.


	6. Internet Rule 34

**Rating: M  
Warnings: Mentions of masturbation on both ends, language, cursing, and lust.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Girl Next Door 2004 film, nor do I own Hetalia**

I am so sorry for not updating. I've had this chapter written for three days. But Mars refused to edit my frickin' story. vrfbjejhgrdjs  
So, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading so far! _  
_

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_Take a deep breath, Hero. Calm your nerves and remember the tips. Alright... the first one? Um... Wasn't it, like... pretend you aren't interested?_

"You're going rather slow." Arthur commented drily, inspecting the pedometer to see a mere 25 MPH. "Even my grandmother drove faster than this."

"Yeah, Yeah, babe. Just sit back and be sexy." By the irritated and offended expression plastered across his cheeks, Alfred knew he had just completed step one successfully.

_Then... get him completely drunk. _

Alfred drug his hand to hang numbly behind his head, an indication he should head into the opposite direction. "I have some booze in the back. Vodka. You like that shit, right? Have as much as you want."

"I'm not drinking in front of my student," Was his only reaction.

_Well, that can wait... Step three... pull over by the side of the road... _

He decelerated further, puzzling the Briton greatly. No one else was around, giving Alfred a clear signal he was able to pull to the darkened curb.

"Is something wrong?" Arthur grimaced, confused at the antics. "I could call a cab if you're that disoriented."

"No." Alfred said plainly, unbuckling.

_And... _

His fingers trailed to brush over Arthur's palm, lovingly nuzzling the skin. His heart skipped a beat when the older one returned the action, wrapping his hand to blanket Alfred's hand.

_Confess. _

"Arthur..." A solemn expression replaced his anxious smile, looking more serious than he had in quite a while. If he was to go through with it, he needed to be prepared for the consequences. Probably some slapping and disbelief to his little lie. But when the other finally accepted it, it'd lead to some mind-blowing fucking. And in the back of a car. What better way to lose his v-card?

"Are you sure you can drive?" The blond asked, holding onto Alfred's appendages to get a sense of the temperature of his body. "Your fall was pretty bad."

Alfred shushed him quickly, causing Arthur to frown. It wasn't very polite, after all, and despite knowing this, the American didn't really care.

"I know this is quick but..."

So he was really going through with it. Arthur watched him blankly, slightly intrigued. It was practically unguessable what he was too say next.

"Arthur, I think I..." Alfred gathered himself. He knew he couldn't do it. Something about the way they held hands... It wasn't in a lusting manner. Simply a mutual caring. A nice friendship. One that shouldn't be ruined.

"I need tutoring." Sure, the American would get hell from Gilbert later for breaking his resolve, but he wouldn't go through with it. He couldn't use Arthur like that. "You're right. If I can't even figure out what a simple word like rouse means, I dunno how I'll make it to the end of the year. Especially with a prick as a teacher."

The engine revved, headlights flashed, and the wheels holding up the weight of the car spiraled to send the pair zooming out onto the asphalt. They had about 40 minutes to get home, which would give both plenty of time to head to their respective homes.

The drive home was very quiet, involving very little small talk. While Alfred made half-hearted efforts to make conversation, Arthur returned with even less, keeping up his tough persona. It made things sit in an uncomfortable, stale silence, nothing much happening but the random comment of scenery. When they arrived home at Arthur's, Alfred made sure to park completely straight, pleased with his work on the job. They bid each other a very quiet goodbye, and they both ran off to get prepared for dinner.

* * *

"_Hah..."_

Rule #34; If it exists, there is porn of it. Yes, children, the rule of the internet. If you simply searched up 'Lion King Kissing,' you'd most likely find human versions of Scar and Mufasa going at it on the floor of a cave. Even love between Plank and Jimmy from Ed, Edd, and Eddy existed. This rule had yet to be proven wrong in Alfred's eyes.

The television screen showed clear representation of this.

The tape Alfred had found didn't go unstudied. No, Alfred had inspected the cover as soon as he was alone. What did he find in Arthur's closet? A beautiful tape or masturbation.

Of course, 'tis be professionally made, including random moments of commentary interjected in between the needing moans erupting from within the British boy. He had not only stretched himself, but pinched and played with his own nipples, and made himself completely erect without even once touching his own member. A glass dildo was positioned at his entrance, prodding and teasing his own muscle with the sure-to-come intrusion.

"_Just like that, hun. Let me see that fucking hot place of yours." The camera zoomed into the sight at hand, the pink lips opening up hungrily to fit in the toy. "Mm, sweet stuff. 'M glad you came home with me, tonight." As he watched, the hole approvingly sucked in the item, more moans echoing off the walls that enclosed him into the bedroom. _

_Once again, the view panned, this time cutting to a view of Arthur's painfully, pleasured lips hanging open, breaths being short and ragged._

Based on the copyright information printed neatly in a very small font on the back, this tape had been from 5 year ago. Placing Arthur at only the young age of 18. This had to be one of his first videos; he didn't seem quite experienced enough in the art of penetration, and it seemed to shock him when he was touched so intimately, even if it was by his own hands. This fact, regrettably enough, only made the straining in Alfred's pants tighter. The straining ache in his jeans had been there for at least a good 15 minutes, never dying down in the least bit. It actually seemed like it'd last forever. If he only touched himself a bit, he'd be satisfied enough to last the entire night without distraction.

"Alfred!" A sweet voice called up from the bottom of the home, summoning him from his stupor. "Arthur and Liz are here, sweetie!"

Alfred tensed, clenching his fists at the nickname he had just witnessed being used on the Brit not a minute before.

"Are y'all okay?" His mother called once more upon a tense silence emitting from the area of his room. He coughed in response, signaling he could hear clearly.

"I'll... I'll be there in a sec'!" Alfred answered back, running his hands through his hair in a strain. His voice was hoarse and cracked, him unable to control the bump clear in his jeans. Though, being interrupted in the middle of his trance did turn the heat down coursing through his limbs a tad. He prepared his legs for his weight, testing to be sure they'd hold, and slowly pulled himself to his feet. There was a bit of a wobble, and a pain that brushed through his thighs when he walked, but he was otherwise free of hindrances obstructing his path to the group gathered.

"And there's Al," Matthew greeted as soon as he caught sight of said brother. Arthur raised a brow, giving a slight wave in sarcasm. He seemed to notice Alfred's distracted movements, amused by it fully.

Alfred pulled a displeased look, feeling the tease in his movements. "Hey, Mattie. Lizzy." He paused. "Art."

"So I see you arrived home, safely?" Arthur mused, nodding thanks to Matthew when his coat was taken to be hung on the rack close to the door.

"A-Okay." Alfred shifted his leg, letting the material gather and bunch at his crotch area. "And I assume you didn't fall the second you got inside?"

The two exchanged a playful grimace, before Elizaveta happily disregarded their atmosphere, and jumped into the middle of the conversation. "Stop making things awkward." The girl pushed Arthur's arm and addressed the witnessing parental units. "Thanks for inviting us over. Artie really needs it; he doesn't have any friends."

"I-I have plenty!" He protested back, and extended his hand to Robert. "I appreciate the offer."

_Suddenly, Arthur was pulled into Robert's grasp, the big man's grin deceiving and wanting. He trailed his eyes down the much smaller Briton's curves, a hand sliding down the back of his pants, kneading that perfect ass of his. _

_He complied back by extending his arms to slip around Robert's neck, sliding him down into a deep kiss. Complete with tongue and everything. _

"Fuck!" Alfred shouted in shock, a flash of brightness appearing in his mind as he was brought back to reality. The 4 looked up at him, his father and Arthur's hands interlocked in the shake they had previously sustained.

Grace tilted her head in concern, releasing her talk with Elizaveta. "Something wrong?" She asked.

Arthur's gaze settled in Alfred's line of vision, an unsaid question pushed onto his lips.

_And in a clouded instant, he began to lick his lips, trailing fingers down his bare chest and hips. He wiggled his waist seductively, dancing erotically to draw Alfred's attention. _

_"Give it to me, big boy~" He hummed in that lust-dripping voice, bending over to give him perfect view of his lubed entrance. "I trust myself to you." _

Alfred jumped back, falling onto the steps with a surprised groan. There Arthur was, not naked, nor hissing with a kinky infatuation. Simply staring up at him in a bemused fashion, along with the rest of his family and guest.

"W-We should eat." The American decided and rushed into the dining room, wanting to get away from the others. A television was nearby, and he could easily use it to distract himself. His fingers laid upon the remote, and as he fumbled, trembling, he was soon able to flip on the screen so it lit up and illuminated the cavern.

_Ahead of him, Alfred found himself watching Arthur in... a bikini. Promoting a soda that he claimed to have the abilities of, "hydrating your body when you're spending a day at the beach." The boy looked directly at the screen, teasingly motioning for the other to follow him into the building he was standing in front of. _

_"And all your wildest dreams will come true." The blond promised, winking. A kiss was blown in Al's direction, before the commercial flipped off onto a random Spanish program that happened to appear. _

...Dinner was going to be terrible.

* * *

"Oh, fuck." Alfred cursed, as he began pacing his room worriedly. His fingernails clawed over his scalp, as if the action would erase the visions he had acquired during the meal. God dammit, he couldn't help it! Every time the boy would even just open his mouth for a bite, he'd picture him moaning, and downing a thick length that would magically appear out of thin air. Drinking from a cup, and having the water dribble a bit down his chin, Alfred imagined it to be a certain white substance! It was driving him absolutely _mad_ as he was forced to sit there with his clear tent pressing against the table above him. He couldn't even kick the damn Brit on the shin to annoy the crap out of him through it all. What a rip off.

However, there was a shifting in the corner, catching Alfred from his stupor. "Watch your language, Al." Arthur smirked, enjoying the grimace the other pulled.

What a role reversal.

"I'm in my own house," Alfred grumbled, turning to face the window. His computer was _right there_, and as the one he had been avoiding appeared, ideas had begun to form in his mental capacity. "I can speak the way I want."

Arthur reached around, touching his student's forearm. He cocked his head in concern. "Are you alright?"

Honestly, Al had no clue how to answer. Sure, he was fine physically, but mentally? Well, would you consider yourself to be level-headed when the only thought that could penetrate your mind was your teacher being screwed?

_And suddenly it was there. The picture of Arthur beginning to pull of__f_ _his clothing and toss it around the room. His fingernails dug into random spots of his milky skin, making a contrasting crimson that would fade in moments. He smirked mischievously, and bent down on all fours to lure in his awaiting pr__e__y, that simply wanted to bang into that wonderful place...~ _

"Stop telling me to do that!" Alfred yelped, falling back onto his bed in a crazed fashion. He found himself sitting on Arthur's coat, the same one he had seen taken earlier. The Brit must have only taken that off, then. Meaning Arthur was leaving. Oh... good.

Arthur stepped backwards, a hand raised in defense. He really wasn't quite sure what to think of the antics presented in front of him, and he faltered in his words in the middle of speaking.

The American idiot breathed out, laughing uneasily at his own reaction. "Hey, I saw you were goin' home. So... I'll see you later?" He grinned, and stood carefully to avoid any attention being paid to his nether region. With that, he gave an embrace to the Briton, only to feel him tense in his grip and yelp, pushing at the other's chest. "Don't pretend you don't want my hugs!"

"I'm not pretending!" Arthur protested back, giving an unpleasant huff directly into Alfred's ear. When he was released, a dark strip was clear across his cheeks, only widening the blond's happy attitude.

"Yeah, well, I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Art~" Alfred laughed and escorted him to the door of his room. Arthur turned his head to look at him, seeming to hesitate in his train of thought, and nodded. Soon, he was down the stairs to chit-chat with Alfred's mom, and the door closed on he and Elizaveta.

And with that, he flopped back into his chair with a satisfied groan. "Oh, _finally_...!"

* * *

How many gay, British, sexy porn stars were there on the internet? Jeez. 'Cause, seriously, it shouldn't be this hard to find someone on the internet like Arthur. There were stacks of videos in his closet, meaning he had to be in multiple productions. Yet there was no trace of him on any of the sites; Redtube, QueerPixels, Gaytube, etc.

Alfred had been searching fruitlessly for about 20 minutes. The nearest thing to a hot bottom he had located in his search was one twink, being a beautiful blond named Miles Pride. He had casually bookmarked the other's IMBd page, knowing that'd be for later times. Right now, he needed to stay on track to find a video of his neighbor.

"British sex videos... Blond jizzes... Blond solos... Gay twink porn... gay blond, huge brows... blond massage- ... Huge brows?" Silently, Alfred found himself selecting the thumbnail that was placed above his cursor. The page began to load, each pixel converting to another color to make up the background of the video. Seconds after the page loaded, the video was ready to play. And there, in the preview, was a gasping face that looked familiar to that of the sub.

Damn, his eyebrows really were pretty big.

The video slowly began to move, starting directly out with the two boys kissing. It was one of those cheap ones you had to pay for if you wanted the whole thing; the time being 7 minutes long. Well, he'd make do, if it meant getting to jack off to this stunner.

Scrolling down, he caught glimpses of the actors' stage names in the video tags. And if he was right... Arthur was...

Captain Cast.

_God_, Alfred couldn't help but laugh. Even if it was sexy in that pirate sorta way, it was a total dorky move. But of course, it'd be something someone as dorky as the old man would choose. Despite the stupidity of the title, it did fit him, personality wise. He was into old things like that.

Moaning erupted through the speakers built into Alfred's headphones, and he hurriedly moved his pointer up to enlarge the video. Arthur was being fingered.

With 4. Fucking. Digits.

"Holy hell..." Alfred gasped, subconsciously moving his palm down to the front of his pants. In one movement, he began rocking his hand against the fabric of his jeans with the rhythm of the rocking/pounding in front of him. It was almost...art...

No play of words intended.

The view cut to a now penetrated view of their lower regions, displaying clearly the process of entering and drawing back. Alfred began to move his hands faster to the beat, pulling free his own erection and beginning to run his hands down the length.

"Nnng...~ Arthur~" He moaned, eyes glued to the screen. He swore he could have climaxed right then and there. "You don't know how hot your body is...~"

Wrong thing to say.

At exactly the wrong time.

There was a stumbling behind the way Alfred's chair was faced, so he couldn't see the perpetrator of his session by himself. Instead, he heard a crashing, and turned to see Arthur, back pressed against the wall by his door. He didn't seem to be angry, really... but...

Hurt.

The expression on his face practically killed Alfred. It was the first time he had seen such sadness placed on the lips of the Brit's face. It tore at his heart, and the American felt a sudden shameful guilt for being caught in the act of watching the emerald-eyed male in action.

"A-Art?" He stammered, grip slacking. He closed out of the window of Google chrome, and shoved his junk back into its original place in his pants, re-zipping hurriedly.

Arthur said nothing, his hands inching across to find the perfect escape route. By his feet, lay several of Alfred's action figures, obviously kicked around.

And before Alfred could react, the other was gone; zipping out from the house faster than anyone had really run from him before.

* * *

"Arthur...!"

Alfred wasn't tired, but it sure was difficult to run out onto the burning pavement without shoes and a disoriented sense of direction. He simply followed the rushing figure, reaching out to catch hold of his elbow. "Yo, Art! Don't run from me! I'm trying to talk-"

"I don't want to!" Arthur returned angrily, turning on Alfred. He glowered dangerously, looking ready to tear the other to bits. "I just needed to get my jacket... Go to your own home and study. There's... there's a test on Monday..." He sounded... like he really was disbelieving to the sight he had recently just viewed.

There was a tense silence between them, broken only by quiet breathing. Alfred looked down at Arthur's face, surprised to see tears cascading down his cheeks and falling to the ground.

"How could you?" The shorter one breathed, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Alfred had no answer. "Look I... Was it that bad? Why didn't you just tell me who you were?"

"Because, I didn't want to!" He snapped back, voice cracking. It made Alfred jump, completely shocked by the attack on him. "Okay? I... I loved the way you looked at me... You were one of my only damn friends and... you screwed the entire thing up!"

"I won't look at you differently..."

Arthur shook his head, wrenching his arm away. It floated down next to his body, and with a glare, he sprinted through his open garage, hands wiping at his cheeks.

Alfred's automatic reaction was to follow. He was unwilling to let him get away. He just... he couldn't lose Arthur. Even if he was a teacher... god... there was a tightening knot in his heart as he imagined life without the Brit close. Imagining him hating him...

"Just... come back? Let me apologize?" Alfred called, standing at the head of the vehicle parked outside. His gaze was hard as he watched Arthur prepare to shut the door.

Arthur's fingers were floating in the air, frozen, above the button to drop the barrier to say goodbye. That single fact that he hadn't pressed it yet gave Alfred a hopeful vibe flowing through his mind.

"...I don't want to be your fucking porn doll." Arthur said flatly, shuddering to hold in his racking sobs. "Goodbye, Alfred."

There was a clicking overhead, and slowly, the white, metal curtain began to fall. In a panic, Alfred stared up at Arthur, waiting for him. He knew the other would stop its descent, thinking quite in a rather optimistic way. He couldn't force himself through... that was wrong. It was up to Arthur.

And the said person had just turned to head into his home.

"Arthur!" Alfred called in a frenzy, falling to his knees to continue peering into the empty garage. When the door pulled too low for him to see, he couldn't help but fall to the ground, extending an arm in a need to pull back his Arthur into his grip. "Arthur wait... I...! I think I..."

He withdrew his arm to prevent it from being crushed. There was nothing he felt like saying. For the second time in his life, Alfred was speechless. Puzzled. He didn't know what to do.

Alfred knew Arthur would want him to grovel at his door step, needing an apology. He was sure, if he pulled off a romantic, begging stunt, he'd earn back the other's trust.

And even if it was what he should do, Alfred instead straightened himself out, brushed down his clothing, and limped back to his room, completely lost without a drive or motivation for an initiation of an action.


	7. Mr Kirkland, I want to get with you!

**Title: The Brit Next Door**

**Rating: T  
Disclaimers: I do not own Hetalia, nor the characters, nor the Girl Next Door. **

**Holy tits. I really screwed this up, didn't I? I had this whole streak of updating at least once a week, but it's been almost two. I've been getting off and on a lot of restrictions and groundings because of stress in the family, and besides that, role-playing and trying to fix my cosplays before Kumoricon in September. So I haven't updated at all recently.**

**I'm sorry if this chapter is pretty bad, but I forced myself to update, so I wouldn't go that long without it. It's pretty short, but it's the entire point I wanted to make in this chapter. Review it?**

* * *

Who knew time could slow down when you were alone? 'Cause, really, during summer, didn't it all go by so quickly? Especially when you spent most of your time alone at home watching TV? One minute you'd just be watching Phineas and Ferb, singing along to 'Gitchi Gitchi Goo,' and munching on an assortment of grapes you found stuffed at the back of your fridge, and the next? Boom! Adventure time was playing in the background as you fought with your parents for control of the big TV to avoid going into your room.

But then... it wasn't until you were really alone- and guaranteed to remain that way- that every second ticked by agonizingly, as you just waited for your death. That alone kind of way when... you just felt empty. Like nothing else really was worth fighting for. That you had just lost that one thing in your life that made each morning all the worth waking up for.

Alfred... had really only known Arthur... what? A week-and-a-half? He'd only been his student for a couple days; his neighbor for a few weeks. And for some reason, this longing to be able to see him again was stuck in his skull like a rock. It was practically torturing him.

And the right choice now would always be to apologize. His mother always taught him never to lie, and accept the consequences for your actions.

And, honestly, he was very much so accepting them. He was taking on the ditching loneliness so hard, he swore he'd collapse at any minute. It was like a heavy weight that always pushed into his chest; making him walk slower, continuing to be unfocused, slack off...

The entire weekend was wasted on lying in bed, being coaxed by Gilbert and Matthew to get out of bed and do something. Of course, the Canadian brother had no clue what was going on, which was a given. If Alfred ever told him why he just lost his hope in a couple days, the younger one would be pissed. He believed in 'privacy' and 'morals' and shit. 'Course he wouldn't understand.

Then there was the albino, who quickly caught on when Alfred motioned to his computer, and then Arthur's house, before flipping over and launching himself into a dreaming, depressed state of consciousness. It was stupid for him to get so obsessed with one person; there were billions!

But then again, each person was like a snowflake. Unique and beautiful. Once you lost that snowflake, you'd never find another like it. And just like a snowflake, Alfred was falling.

Falling for Arthur.

* * *

Monday came with a surprise.

The second Alfred got to second period, he knew things were different. Extremely. There was no assorted grouping of paper stacked high on the desk, and that familiar unicorn lunch pail was void. Instead, a mess of pencils and pens took the place of the arrangements, and a plain brown lunch bag sat on the surface of the desk.

The American froze, staring at that one spot he expected his former teacher to be. Sure, it was taken. But by a young woman with bright eyes and a cheerful smile, wearing the oldest clothes possibly made. Her annoying huge grin only extended as she bubbled and clapped her hands over Alfred's that hovered above her desk, pointing in an unbelieving accusation he hadn't said.

"Welcome to period two language arts!" She bubbled, closing her eyes. It was probably because her cheeks forced them shut. God, did this lady know how to frown? "I'm so happy to see you! I'm Ms. Sunny!"

Just like her to have that name, too. Alfred greeted her back with a nod, drawing back his hands hesitantly. "...Where's Kirkland?"

"Who?" Ms. Sunny asked, lips puckering as she pondered the question. "The other sub? Why, he had to take the week off. He promised to be back soon! However, for now, I'm your teacher!"

Alfred's eyes turned hard. "Where is he?" He demanded, an etch of worry pulling over his voice. If he had really taken vacation because Al was there... he'd rather just quit school now. Not put this much worry on him! Really, did Arthur have to care that much? Did he have to avoid him at all costs?

"Hmm? The principal just said he was having a rough time at home and needed a few days off. To recuperate. Apparently he went through some emotional shock." Ms. Sunny's eyes lit up in a secretive joy that only signaled she had something juicy to share. She drew Alfred in close, her total valley girl accent drawing out her words. "If you ask me, when I talked to him on the phone, I think it was something to do with his lover. A girl was in the background begging him to get off the phone! Who takes work off because of a girlfriend? Maybe they're divorcing?"

"Maybe..." Alfred replied back weakly, lending back the friendliness with a twitch of his lips. "I'll go take my seat... bell's uh... about the ring..."

"Right!" Sunny cheered and shooed him off, grabbing chalk to excitedly sketch her name out across the board in perfectly slanted letters, ending each with a special, little, self-esteem curl. She turned to face the awaiting students, clapping her hands together.

"I'm your new teacher for the week!" She giggled quietly to herself, seeming to get lost within her own words. And slowly, her eyes focused out as strawberries and rainbows passed through her vision. Charming. In a flash, she was back, and looked around the classroom. "Shall we get started?"

Alfred was too distracted, writing out the last of his note he'd been working on since last period. The one he planned to place on Arthur's door-step tonight in hope for a response. You never know; Arthur may just realize Alfred was truly sorry.

_I didn't mean to make you mad, Artie... Forgive me?_

* * *

"Alfred hasn't been showing up to class 2nd period..."

Didn't his parental units know said male could hear them? They were only in the other room. Still, Alfred was too heroic to let a little conversation about him get him down. Forcing himself to grin happily, he pulled the x-box remote closer to his body to continue playing the game with flashing lights and blood he had been challenged to earlier. Francis was across the room, happily scuffling Feliciano's tangled hair and telling him stories of his ventures in Europe. Next to them, Antonio and Lovino were cuddled, the stuff Italian pretending to be displeased with his position on the taller Spaniard's lap, though the hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips, his arms wrapped around the other's neck. And finally Gilbert, laughed and punched Alfred's arm every so often, winning practically every match they were pitted to. Alfred was mostly tuned out, however, listening in on his parents in the kitchen.

"I've been trying to talk to Ms. Sunny, and she said nothing seemed out of place the first day. Matthew's keeping his lips shut as always, and Gilbert's mother doesn't know anything." Grace mumbled through pursed lips.

"He's probably just realizing he's leaving school. Skipping classes he doesn't like. You know him; always avoiding proper English!" His dad's heavy laugh was obvious, puffing out the air like it was iron blocks that fell to the ground quickly.

It had been 4 weeks since Alfred had last seen Arthur. At all. He'd stare out his window in hopes of seeing him take out the trash... or even get in his car to go get groceries. But so far, the only trace had been a catch of his ankle scurrying back inside after Alfred found yet another car that looked very unfamiliar replacing Elizaveta's. She did say the other was a rent or something like that. Meaning, her time on the car probably expired, and she had to exchange it for another. Seemed pretty likely.

But, anyways, the note had gone unanswered. In fact, Alfred found it crumpled up in the bushes on the side of the house. It had practically sent him demanding he be let into Arthur's to force him to talk, but that would go nowhere. The old man would probably call the cops. Stupid prick. Always getting in trouble just because something was against the law.

The thought of Arthur's scolding brought a light smile passing over Alfred's lips, and ways he could use to annoy the Brit were cast through his mind. All the different phrases and sayings he could easily use to make him blush... Goddamn. There were so many.

"You've died 5 times." Gilbert snorted nearby. It took Alfred a few seconds to pull himself back from his stupor and blink at the Albino, suddenly remembering he had been playing.

"Fuck you." Alfred laughed, and laid his controller across the couch cushion. "You always cheat when I'm not paying attention!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes at the accusation, and stretched out across the white fabric. "You seem happier. What the hell happened all of a sudden?"

"Nothing..." Alfred breathed out with a smile, twittering at the imagination of those beautiful green eyes staring- or rather, glaring- over at him. He'd give anything to see them again; full of life and proud. "Just... I have something I should do." With that, he stood, though the others hardly paid attention. Gilbert stood with him, though was quickly shooed down into a sitting position. "I'm going alone."

And the message passed through the Prussian just as he saw Alfred stalking from the room and slipping out the back door. He gave a pleased smirk, giving a thumbs-up to the spot his best friend had been planted just seconds before. Maybe the blond could be level-headed and smart sometimes. Besides, the group of friends had been waiting an entire week for Alfred to realize he needed to apologize!

"And now it starts, oui?" Francis butt in, halting his conversations. "We shall see what Alfred has in store?"

"Let's just hope he doesn't screw the damn thing up. Seeing him all depressed and shit is weird."

"But, Lovi, he's just missing Arthur~" Antonio cooed in response to the previous question. Feliciano nodded eagerly, bubbling in content it might actually turn out well in the end.

"Yeah, well..." Gilbert sneaked a glance up the stairs set out behind him, his intentions clear. "Who wants to see the view we get of Arthur's house from the twit's room?"

* * *

_Gonna get my Artie back! Gonna get my Artie back! I'll get that sexy li__ttle suga' to forgive me in an instant! Gonna get my sexy back! He won't be jackin' my swag on Friday no more!_

So, maybe the lyrics were getting a bit off rhythm, and starting to lose sense. Nonetheless, they still repeated over-and-over in Alfred's head as he jammed out to his own little tune, his feet shuffling on the pavement of his next door neighbor's miniature porch... rise... thing. Y'know... the step out in front of his front door. What the hell were those things called, anyways?

Ah, fuck it. Footsteps were approaching. Funny; they sounded heavier than what Alfred remembered. Arthur must have been very happy to see him!

Alfred puffed out his chest and stood erect, making sure he used his height of 5'11 to his full capacity, and awaited the appearance of the much smaller man.

But, when the door creaked open, and Alfred glanced down to catch view of the tuft of blond hair...

He was met with chest. A chest covered with a bright yellow shirt, and the ends of a red scarf. It sounds pretty distasteful, but hey, this guy pulled it off. Trailing farther up this strange body, a neck was found, and above that? Unexpected plot twist; a head!

The head carried a butt load of blond hair- what was with the people in this town?- contained under a small, cylinder, black hat, and eyes that reminded Alfred of mini-moons. A permanent grin settled on his face, and it was obvious this guy was about 1 inch taller than Alfred. Even worse; he appeared to be more puffed up and proud without even feeling challenged.

"Min skat!" The man shouted behind him with a clear and rather raspy accent, his voice crackly and high-pitched. Ha! Alfred had a much better voice than this crazy fucker. Besides, what was he even speaking?

_This is America! We speak American!_

Holy shit, that line was stuck in his head.

The man nodded his hello to Alfred, shaking his hand heatedly before Alfred got a chance to respond. "Hej! Mathias Kohler! You?"

"Alfred... Jones?" Alfred respond back, before he found his excitement, not liking the thought of being outdone. He returned the grip twice as hard, shaking on a harder level. "Nice to meet you!"

"Ja! Same to you!"

And the tension between the two was brought up. Alfred felt his grip being called, and it was a sudden death round, seeing who would back down first. But seeing as both of the two held major pride, it wasn't as if it was easy. They leaned in threateningly, baring teeth, and growling quite ferociously until their veins popped from their arms.

"You're putting quite an effort in. Something wrong?" Alfred squeezed from his lips, grinning maliciously.

"Nothing, assbag. Perfectly fine." Mathias laughed back, fingernails digging into the back of the American's hand.

"I wouldn't be so sure, seeing the sweat on your brow."

"What about the way you're sticking your tongue out? Someone's determined."

"What the hell are you doing, Mathias?" Arthur intervened, grabbing hold of the Danish's waist and ripping him back into the house. There was a shocked silence that played in Alfred's mind as he viewed the sight of his ex-teacher. He truly had forgotten of Arthur for those moments, his intentions of appearing forgotten in the show-down.

But there he was. As good looking as ever. And he seemed equally as surprised to see Alfred.

"Ah, Art!" Mathias cheered, and scooped the boy into his arms, lifting him inches off the ground and into his fatal grip. Arthur winced, a slight cracking falling into the air from the strength put behind the lock.

"Art?" Alfred hissed.

"Mathias I..." Arthur was released, and he gathered himself before continuing. "This is Alfred... Alfred, what are you doing?" The blond questioned.

"I already met him, min blomst! Pretty interesting guy!"

"Arthur... what the fuck is he doing here?" Alfred demanded.

"Would you mind going in the other room for a bit?" Arthur breathed out, his face turning red from the development of stress. "So we can talk?"

Mathias grabbed hold of the Brit once more, despite his yelping protests. "But, I haven't seen you much in the past weeks. You've always been in your room."

"Arthur..?" Alfred grimaced, clenching his fists. His fucking nickname, stolen. And Arthur didn't even seem to mind.

"So can I stay?" Mathias pleaded.

"Alfred... Mathias... just... shut the fuck up for a damn second!" The blond shouted. The two begging for attention jumped, and the emerald-eyed man was set on his feet on the mat inside.

"Now...Mathias... this is Alfred, an ex-student of mine," Arthur introduced politely. However, his gentlemanly twitch of his chin faltered, replaced by a solemn frown. "And, Alfred... this is Mathias...My boyfriend."


	8. He's Leaving, on a Jet Plane

**Rating: T+  
Warnings: Language, Sexual themes **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this chapter, and I've only written it.**

**Yes; Kitkat has returned. I'm terribly sorry for not updating as I should have, but I actually opened up a blog on tumblr that's been getting quite a bit of asks, on top of getting interested in minecraft and video editing. I'll do my best to write more often and update more of my stories, but schools getting closer, along with Kumoricon. I need to prepare myself... -sobs- **

**Thank you for continuing to read, and I hope to see you review!**

* * *

Arthur had the weirdest expressions. It did get kinda hard to tell if he was angry or hurt... like always. Then there were those times when you couldn't tell if he constipated or excited, but that really had nothing to do with the moment.

And especially now, as he held his place, glaring directly into those daring eyes of Alfred's, challenging him to say something. Inviting him to speak out against his choices. But, despite his angry stance, he looked like he was about to break down screaming. Which almost made the American back off. He didn't really wanna cause any unneeded stress on him, when it was obvious he'd been dealing with a bit.

This didn't result in Alfred's hands moving from their hold on Arthur's shoulders, planting him in place as he contemplated what to say next. This had gone on for too long... and it needed to be solved.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?" He asked, voice hard and crisp. Alfred wasn't quite sure whether he spit or something else, but he could tell the littler Brit winced.

Arthur regained himself before answering with a simple, "On the first day of school, you don't usually tell your students about your personal life."

"It's not just that!" Alfred breathed in frustration, tightening his grip dangerously. He felt like the other's bones would crush in his grip as he mashed the other's soles into the pavement, but there wasn't much he could do to stop himself. "You and I... we... we did all that stuff together! Are you telling me you had a secret boyfriend the entire time?"

And still, the irritating old man avoided the question. "Let go of me."

"Not until you answer me. Dammit, Art...! Can't you just... tell me?" He barked.

"I don't see how it's any of your business-"

"Arthur..."

"..." Said blond turned his attention away for seconds, glancing back to the door of his house, where Mathias should be. Inside, sitting on the couch. "We just got back together a week ago."

"Back togeth-?"

Arthur cut him off, displeased with being interrupted. "We knew each other from... before..." He stopped himself, catching his breath as he spoke. "We starred together...And we just got back into contact. He actually now has a proposal for me..."

Alfred tilted his head in curiosity, shaking him expectantly. "You're... dating him? Like... for serious? And you met in porn?" He puffed out air through his lips to calm himself, before continuing. "And that would be?"

Alfred wasn't expecting the next answer. Not at all. If he had known what it was going to be; he wouldn't have asked. Besides... it'd be better not to find out in front of Arthur. Not when he was in his grip.

Arthur regained himself from the trembling, sniffing angrily for being manhandled. Though he still took his sweet time answering. "He's gotten an offer back in Denmark." He stated, casually. "And they needed a co-star."

"Arthur you... you don't mean that..."

"Alfred, I'm moving back to Denmark with Mathias. And I'm in the middle of packing. If you'd so _kindly_ let me go like I requested earlier, I'd appreciate it."

* * *

Felciano let out a strangled gasp as his cheek was smashed against the cold glass of the window placed in his eye-sight. His body was immediately pushed with it, crumpled under the demanding weight of his older brother.

"Goddammit, Feli, let me see!" Lovino cried in utter anger, shoving the younger Italian twin to the side of the group of friends. The Brunette slipped his gaze downwards, searching across the landscape for Alfred, whom would supposedly be at the house over. And sure enough, he emerged into the drive-way next door, limbs flailing in a supposed dance as he worked his way to the front-steps of the home. "What an idiot." He retorted to himself when the other man pushed the doorbell and stepped back, fumbling in the middle of a move when it went awry.

Antonio pushed his way past the Albino crowded by Lovino, clinging onto the younger teen with a laugh. "Alfred certainly is something else~"

"Ahahah! Look at his face! The door just answered~!" Gilbert added in, stretching to see over the tall mesh of brown, Spaniard hair that blocked his path. "Hey, dickhead! Move!"

"Don't call the fucker a dickhead!" Lovino spat over his shoulder.

"Ah, Lovi... always standing up for me...si?"

"Eh, Fratello! I want to see!"

"Go suck a dick."

"Now that you mention it, dear Lovino, I could use a bit of asistance from little Feliciano~"

"Get the fuck off my brother, snail-sucker!"

"Hey, guys?" Gilbert snarled, clearly irked with the babbling arguements distracting them all from the scene at hand. "If you'd shut the fuck up, Alfred's talking to some meat-wall."

And sure enough, when the shocked boys glanced outside of the pane, Alfred squared his shoulders up to a rather muscular looking blond. There was no way in hell it could have been Mr. Kirkland, and he really didn't look all that familiar.

"Is he married?" The youngest Italian boy asked, nose pressed to the window as he investigated the scene below.

Alfred stepped back in surprise, and sure enough, a much shorter figure appeared to pry the men off each other. The oldest of the trio folded his arms, anger flashing across his eyes dangerously.

Gilbert's eyebrows knitted together to form a creasing frown, because, truthfully, it seemed very likely. "Wouldn't he take on the guys name? Seems more like a brother or some shit like that."

"Would he even tell us his full name?" Francis hummed in response, captivated by it all same as the friends. "It'd be quite a handful to say two sur-"

"Holy crap; He grabbed him." Gilbert crowed. It was an understatement to say he was shocked by how this was panning out. "It looks like Kirkland's gonna tear his face off for yelling. What the fuck is happening?"

"Can we hear if we open the window?" Feliciano bubbled, and pushed hard on the panel.

"Wait, Feli, it's loose-!"

Being too late to withdraw his brother all the way, Lovino landed on the smaller body, instead sending them both toppling into the light breeze as the window crashed open. There was no real screen to stop them, meaning they both found themselves head-first, falling.

"D-Don't let go of me, dammit!" Lovino screamed and clung tighter to his sibling when he found they had been stopped. Though they were both being held only by their ankles, attempting to being hoisted up into the house before they were noticed.

Or, y'know, before they fell.

"Fratello, s-stop choking me i-it hurts-!"

* * *

"Would you stop taking things out of my suitcase?"

"Would you stop packing?"

"Alfred, I'm leaving."

"You don't want to."

"Of course I do! It's why I'm going!" Arthur sighed in exasperation as his shirt he had just neatly folded and set inside his suitcase found it's way back in the closet, escorted by the younger American.

Alfred turned an expectant eye to Arthur, waiting to see what he would attempt to organize next. He crossed his arms, stubbornly pouting. He wouldn't be outmatched. Nor would he let this old man run away. "Why are you really going?"

There was no answer. Arthur pushed his way past Alfred, angrily grabbing a handful of random clothing. He shoved it into a fabric-carpeted inside of the square, and zipped it shut as fast as possible to avoid interception.

This man was so... protestant. He couldn't just stay? Was what Alfred did so bad, he had to run away? With some bozo? Hell, he wasn't even close to being as awesome as Alfred! And besides... Arthur didn't... he didn't love him. 'Course, it didn't matter to Alfred who Arthur loved- kinda...Or maybe it did quite a bit- but he couldn't just throw it all away for porn.

"What's the point?" Alfred demanded. Arthur had picked up his case and began lugging it down the stairs, leading down to the front-door. Outside, a car rumbled, waiting for it's next passenger to escort the Brit. "Are you leaving because you're too embarrassed to face the stupid facts?"

Arthur stiffened, his eyes meeting Alfred's. They seemed hurt and angry, but Alfred couldn't stop. He knew he should... as he had already went too far, but this goddamn idiot needed it!

"You're a teacher. My teacher. My next door neighbor. You aren't some dumb blond teenager. You have a life here. Not in Denmark."

"I'm not embarrassed! This is my own choice!" Arthur growled back, jaw clenching. "It's all my business! Nothing to do with your big, fat ass!"

"So you're leaving? That's it? You're giving up?"

Arthur hesitated. And said nothing. Which only proved to infuriate Alfred further.

"You're ditching me? Without a second thought?"

Still nothing.

"Fine. You know what? I give up. You're just leaving because you need a good, hard fucking on camera, aren't you? I thought you were above that, Art. Not a_ slut_."

The second Alfred saw Arthur's expression, he wished he could take it all back.

_"You're such a damn dick!" _

There was a very brief sound of skin-meeting-skin, and suddenly, silence.

Alfred slowly, as if he didn't believe it, raised his hand to brush against the skin of his cheek. He was met with a dull throbbing that hissed at his touch, and warmth. In front of him, Arthur's hand was frozen in it's raised position, crossed over his body from the force he had just exerted out of it. His eyes were just as shocked as Alfred's; wide and frantically looking between his fingers and the teen's face. The face he had just laid a rather rough slap to.

Alfred relaxed, though his head now burned with a hell-fire. All he could do now was plead. "A-Arthur... I'm sorry... I didn't mean it..."

The Briton whipped his arm up, giving Alfred a not-so-friendly gesture, and pulled himself as quickly as possible from the home. "_I'll tell you where you can stuff your half-arsed apologies_." He shouted over his shoulder, and rushed off down the slope.

It usually would have been a quite amusing sight to see Arthur stumbling and tripping over his over-sized luggage, but Alfred was in no mood for humour. He couldn't even bring himself to crack a smile when the blond tripped completely, only to be caught by the much bigger Mathias and settled into the car by those arms.

Alfred didn't even know if he could breathe when the two drove off for the airport, leaving the house in the dust.

* * *

**Sorry that there were previously no page breaks and it was messy. I forgot to add them in!**

**Also, I couldn't help but add in the slap. Thank you for the suggestion! **


	9. Parkour

**Rating: T  
Warnings: Language  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor do I own the Girl Next Door plot.**

* * *

**I can't believe I've taken so long to update. I swear, I blame Fantabulous Hetalia Rpers. Even if I gave up on the blog.**

**Anyways, I promise- pfft, like I haven't said this before- I'll start trying to write more! It's hard with school coming along. I'd write during school, but I don't have a way to type it or anything.**

**I just need friendly reminders. Urgh. Well, if you want to tell me any ideas you have for the story, or just want to tell me I need to stop being a lazy ass and update, my Facebook RP account is Arthur Mummylove Kirktits.**

**Thanks for still reading! Even after I failed you!**

* * *

_This is crazy..._

There was a loud yelp from behind Alfred, and grumbles of protest from the seats behind him. A trashcan now laid scattered on the asphalt outside the American's home, it's contents heating and melting in the hot, summer sun. Breathing deeply, the teen took off speeding down the road, tires screeching as he went.

_This is totally nuts..._

"Alf-agh-red!" Feliciano screeched from the very back row of seats. They were all placed in Alfred's mother's mini-van, taking off down the street at a good 20 miles above the speed limit. As long as they avoided cops, who would care, though? "M-Maybe we should slow down? We'll still have a chance of getting there on time!"

Alfred ignored the banter and complaints of his passengars, zooming down the roads on his trek to find the quickest way to the escaping heart he was after.

_Is this even worth it all?_

Francis's fingernails were digging harshly down into the American teen's thigh, using anything as a grip to hold himself back. A while ago, Alfred had taken out that seatbelt, needing something easily accessible to tie Matthew to his basketball hoop after his brother had played a mean prank on him involving ants, and a bath of honey.

So, maybe Alfred had tried smoking weed once or twice, and he happened to get revenge during one of those 'experiments.' It was still a bright idea for the moment.

And who would be unlucky enough to get stuck in the front seat, with no way to anchor himself, and in a speeding death trap but the despised and picked-on snail-sucker.

"'Ey, watch it!" Someone screamed nearby the open windows. Probably a pedestrian Alfred had cut off. Surely, by the end of this, he'd have a ticket or two. And maybe even be grounded and have his license confiscated. Hell... maybe he wouldn't even reach the airport in time.

But when he pictured that gorgeous smile... those wonderful, steady eyes... and imagined that perfect combination of a sexy and cute British accent...

_If it's for Arthur, of course it is._

With that thought, Alfred pressed down a little harder on the gas pedal, and sped off down a cleared exit ramp.

* * *

"Stop touching my radio!"

"You have the shittiest music! Where the hell are all the good stations?"

"You're the ony who listens to crap no one can even understand! I mean, why the hell would there even be an Italian station, anyways? All songs sound the same!"

"You sound like a little girl in everything you say, but, mio dio, I don't say fuck!"

Feliciano slammed his arms around Alfred's chest, dragging him back to the third row of seats, after he had attempted to rip over the top and choke Lovino to death. Yes, Lovi sure did deserve to be scolded once in a while, but not physically harmed!

The car now traveled at a steady pace, and not a terrorizing speed that would make the entire frame spontaneously combust. Somewhere between the points Alfred almost crashed into the wall of a building, and came very close to getting hit by someone attempting to cross the intersection, the group of boys had forced him to allow Antonio to take the wheel. And not wanting to be apart from his boyfriend- which he simply claimed Antonio would crash without his guidance- Lovino followed along obediently and settled lazily into his spot.

Though through his entire stay up front, the Italian had prodded at Alfred's nerves, provoking him in every way possible; dropping trash on the floor, messing with his family's stations, and even locating a comic book that had been stashed and ripping out a page to show how stupid he thought it was. Right now, he was lingering on the edges of getting thrown out the window.

"How much longer?" Gilbert whined from Francis's lap, where he'd forced himself to be allowed to rest his head as he sprawled out across his row. Francis was now half-asleep, finding no entertainment in staying awake all the way to the international airport. "We've been driving for an hour!"

"Be quiet for a few seconds," Antonio sighed, getting a bit irritated by the constant whining and bickering. "Oh, Lovi~ That doesn't look comfortable at all. Do you want to come sit on my lap?"

"Why would I want to do that?" He huffed in return, cheeks puffing out at the mere idea of taking such a position in front of the idiots around. "Stupid."

"Because you love me!" Antonio cheered, throwing his hands up overdramatically.

The car gave a dangerous swerve, veering off into the direction an over-loaded truck was going. The rest of the bunch gave a loud screech in surprise, staring with wide eyes at the source of terror. The Spaniard quickly regained himself, pulling out of the way just in time for the heavy machine to zoom past with a long squeal.

"Heh..." The Brunette laughed, smiling anxiously. "...Ooops."

* * *

The car ride had calmed down a bit more since Francis took the wheel. There was much debate after Antonio lost his driving privledges, deciding who'd be allowed to take charge. Lovino duly voluntered, knowing he'd be one of the fastest drivers if he set his mind to it. Though that resulted in a resounding no- specifically from Francis- which ultimately cancled out Feliciano. Gilbert was the most likely to launch them off a cliff for fun- or just to be a jackass and scare everyone...- which led to him being pushed from the vote.

And finally, the Frenchman got his way, as he forced the others to the back, so he could be alone up front with his Albino friend.

Alfred was still in the midst of pouting, not liking the fact he wasn't allowed to be in the passengar seat of his own family car. Instead, he got stuck with a babbling Italian once more. Lovino and Antonio had traveled to the very back, and soon disappeared behind the cover of headrests to the floor. Alfred was frankly too terrified of what he'd come across to glance back, though Feliciano had no problem stealing glances back. Besides, if sight wasn't enough, there was an occasional curse or messy squish, sometimes even a small groan of satisfaction, to signal the messy love-fest going on at their rear.

"So, Alfred!" Feliciano coughed, aiming to get the American's attention. He arched his back to lean forward in the seat, acting as if what he had to say was a big secret. "How are you gonna get Arthur to stay~?"

His blue eyes were filled with a blank flickering for seconds, his mind wrapping around the idea he indeed had to pull some tacky moves to get the Briton to fall back in his arms the instant he saw him. "U-Uh... Well... I'll just tell the old man I think he's a good neighbor, and left the tap running!" He grinned, blinking hard to come up with impromptu ideas as an answer. "And that old coot will let his OCDness kick in, rush home, find out I lied, and go back to his old ways!" Alfred nodded, satisfied with his answer. "...Right?"

There was silence spread out across the cavern, and even Antonio poked his head out above the seats Alfred was perched on. "I don't think that's how love works with a man like him, amigo..."

"Screw you guys," Alfred huffed indignantly, and folded his arms on his lap. His face took on a rather sullen expression, and he once again began to resemble a child. "I don't like him like that! He's just... a teacher..."

"A really, really hot teacher."

* * *

_"Gate A50 is now boarding. Gate A50 is now boarding." _

Alfred's eyes grew wide as they passed over the illuminated letters flashing on the overhead LED board. There were three planes taking off towards Denmark... how was he supposed to track down one as Arthur's?

_"Gate A51 will be boarding in 10 minutes." _

"Hey, Alfred!" Gilbert screeched, louder than neccesary for that moment's levels of volume. All heads turned to face the rambunctious white-haired teen, as he thrust his finger in the direction of the board. "A51 is also going to Denmark!"

Alfred blinked, a huge grin spreading across his cheeks the second he heard the news. In an instant, he, and the others in his group took off running in a mob towards the area of the gates.

"W-Wait!" The woman who had been the announcer called, unsure how else to stop the seniors. Not knowing what else to do, and in fear of someone being hurt, she quickly retrieved her microphone, and let out a long cry._ "Security! We need securtiy in the A section of the building!" _

Alfred inwardly cursed, knowing the kind of legal trouble he'd be placed in if he was caught. But if he left now... without Arthur? When he was so close...

"Stop!" A gruff voice demanded, and the blond ripped his head up to glance at the figure in front of him. He stopped dead in his tracks, along with the rest of the boys around him. "Now, calm the hell down and take positon."

Alfred cast a terrified glance to the rest of his mates, turning his view past the face of the guard. People were filing past with bags, some with little tourist shirts that said, "I Heart Denmark."

"I never even wanted to come with you fuckers," Lovino hissed, closer to the back of the group. "Goddammit."

With that, in a flash of brown, the small man zipped forward. The guard he was attacking let out a strangled gasp, turning to run. Though he was much to late, and crashed to the ground after being pummled by the Italian's kick to the back of his knees.

"Let's not wait aroun- CHIGI!" He croaked, hands wrapping around his stomach from behind. A bystander dragged him backwards, avoiding the kicking and screaming being released by the flailing figure.

"I'll help Lovi! Keep running!" Antonio laughed, looking as if he fully enjoyed himself as he took off towards his lover.

The others took the hint, though Feliciano tore a glance towards his brother and ran off to help. Alfred led the group onward, their feet squeaking on the tile floor. The families that had been ready to board their plane kept a good distance away from the speeding mob, scared they too were gonna take a drop-kick if they stayed any closer.

Their next challenge? The security check.

There was only a short line, consisting of one man. The woman in front of him was taking off loads of jewelry and watches, depositing them all slowly, one by one. Alfred bit his lip, still trying to figure out the way they'd pass by the obstacle.

"...I suppose I'll help if it's for love." Francis breathed into Alfred's ear. "Make sure you reach him on time, mon ami~" All eyes turned to the blond Frenchman as he took his stand, striding up confidently to the flashy woman. "Excusez-moi~" He sang, slipping out a single rose from the sleeves of his coat. "I couldn't help but notice your beauty, ma biche. I couldn't distract myself away from the radiating brightness of your smile."

The woman giggled, a blush falling upon her exagerated facial structures. "What a gentleman."

Francis bent over, sweeping up her hand and planting a kiss to it in affection, all while the security watched with shock and irritation for the holding of the line. The blond's blue eyes swept into the boys' direction, signalling he had created a diversion. Underneath the crease of their bodies, a clear hole was shown through, and with the charmer and charmee holding the two sides of it off, they'd make it through.

"Go!" Gilbert shouted, pushing the teen's back. Alfred shot to it, followed by the only remaining group member. They fell to the floor, propelled in a slide to the other side, all while the alarms blared above them.

They caught their footing easily, continuing down past baggage check. Though they were being called after by the women manning the desk, all guards had taken other posts to catch them. Which had remained unsuccesful.

A light humming from outside reached their ears, being the muffled sound of a plane. The two tripped over themselves in surprise, falling to the glass wall that kept the boarding area of the planes sound-proof. And just below them, a certain short male and his large, Danish company stood, getting their tickets checked before they were able to get on.

"We're gonna make it!" Alfred cheered, grabbing Gilbert's hand and jetting him down the stairs. They were only seconds away from interlacing with the line, and soon, Arthur would be back with them!"

"We're almost there!" Their feet secured steps on the platform the Brit was on, Alfred slowing himself to a walk. He marched with his head high, Gilbert staying behind for now, to allow the American some space.

"Hey Arthur!" Alfred summoned, waving his hands happily. Though with the roar of the engine, it was a bit hard to hear, admittedly. "Arthur!"

Without looking back, the fading body in green disappeared inside the plane, just 10 feet or so from Alfred. He blinked, stunned for seconds. "Arthur!"

"Excuse me, sir. I'll have to ask you to stay back without a ticket!" The woman frowned, placing her hands defensively on Alfred's chest. "You can't board."

"B-But you don't understand!" He argued, eyes wide and frantic. "I came all this way to get him! He... he got on and I have to talk to him!"

"Sir, I don't want to have to call security."

"Arthur, wait! Just let me get him for a second!"

The doors to the plane were pulled up as a flight attendant appeared, hoisting them to fill the cavity in the plane.

"No! Artie!" He shouted, pushing past the woman to run towards the plane. The tumbles were locked, and Alfred only succeded in getting his legs tangled in its 3 silver arms.

The plane began slowly moving forward, pulled by a cart from the outside. Blue eyes scanned anxiously at the plane windows, searching for the face of his neighbour. Soon he caught blond, messy hair, and his face lit up. Alfred thew his arms up, trying to catch the attention of the person on board. And it seemed as if the person's green eyes remained unseen to the other.

"You'll have to come with us." A man demanded from behind Al, tugging the back of his jacket to pull him along. "Right now."

Alfred's shoulders sagged, and silently, he nodded. Besides... he was leaving empty handed anyways...

* * *

**A/N: Wow. I feel like that was super confusing.  
Basically, in the last part, Alfred found out Arthur's plane was boarding in 10 minutes, and he ****knew he didn't have enough time, so he took off running. It was all going fine until they were caught by guards, and Lovino sacrificed himself to go kick and knock over the one in front of them. Some other random dude dragged him off, to which Feli and Toni followed to go help.  
Then they reached security check, and Francis flirted with the woman in it long enough for them to slide on the ground to get through.**

**Then they found the boarding area, ran downstairs to it, Alfred saw Arthur, ran after him while Gilbert stayed behind, only to be stopped when Arthur got on the plane and it pulled away. Then he got caught by security.**

**Anyways, that's about it!**

**And if you could please review this if you liked it, I'd love it~ It means the wo**rld to me!


	10. Fill the World with Silly Love Songs

**Rating: M **

**Warnings: Mentions of porn, language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor do I own Girl Next Door**

**You don't even know how fun this was to write. Seriously. I can't wait to get home just so I can write another chapter tomorrow.**

* * *

It must have been an absolutely dreary and terrifying day to fly. Especially over-seas. It was rainy, and thunder panged over-head every once again during the powerful storm. Staring out the cracked blinds, just feet from him, Alfred would count the seconds between a strike of lightning, and a rumbling that shook his head.

"There was another one..." Feliciano droned in Alfred's ear, now watching with him. Silently, in his head, the American began to count.

_1...2...3...4...5...6...7..._

And there was the groan that slightly interrupted the audio blaring on a cracked television at the head of the room, displaying flashing people in black-and-white. It was an airport safety video, designated to teach the 'proper and safe way to execute your short stay at an airport.' It pretty much seemed like a joke, though, it was definitely a requirement if the group ever wanted to escape their holding cell.

Following Alfred and Gilbert being taken by the police and thrown into a secluded room in the hidden sectors of the building, they had come face-to-face with their many friends. Francis had escaped his capture for a long-while, since he hadn't truly done anything wrong, but was uphanded when he had been accused of staring up a woman's dress when she tied her shoe. It's not as if he didn't do it, but truly, it was an automatic reaction for him at this point!

As for the Italians and Spanish company, Lovino had been dragged off by a pedestrian when they left. Antonio had followed to help, only to be struck in the eye by the heel of his lover's flailing foot. This made for quite an easy arrest, and Feli had been drug out from under a woman's desk sooner or later.

And at one point of another, they had found themselves clumped back in the same place, their goals incomplete, as the Brit had indeed found himself on a plane, in a far off land.

The video clicked off in a mere 2 minutes after Alfred had finally tuned in, giving a very dank light accompanying the static that bustled on screen. One of the burly men in charge slipped his hand to the switch that turned off the TV, and instead clicked on the light.

"Now what have you all learned today?" He demanded. It was clear he had been just as bored as the teens.

"Be safe," Lovino muttered, pulling a bitter expression. "Don't attack people. We get it."

"Since you're all under 18, we've called your parents. They should be here soon." The man in charge announced, and slipped from the room.

Francis turned his attention to the American boy, planting a delicate palm as a support for his chin. "What are you doing now? Now that he's gone?"

"Don't give him ideas." Lovino grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "No more shitty stunts like that!"

"But it's for love," Francis protested, wrapping an arm tightly around the small boy's waist. "We all know how important that is to you, non?"

Lovino froze, staring wide-eyed at the blond. "D-Don't you even dare!"

"What is it?" Antonio whined. "I want to know!"

"Never!"

Francis smirked, bringing a crumpled piece of paper from his coat pocket. "I found this in the front seat after dear Lovi moved back~" He sang in triumph. An angry brunette lunged for his throat, but was restrained by a giggling Gilbert.

"Come on, Franny! I wanna know, too!"

Antonio leaned in excitedly, craning his neck over Francis' shoulder to get a better look, as the content was read off.

"It's a receipt for Spencer's. The sex store?" Informed the French voice. In front of him, the Albino had stuffed his hand in Lovino's muffled mouth, keeping him from interrupting the embarrassment. "Lessee... he rang up with 2 'adult films,' a bottle of fruit flavored lube, and quite a few other items..."

Antonio blinked, turning his eyes up to the captured boy, who was now wriggling immensely to escape his binds. Lovino's eyes were wide and panicked, full of anger, and he sharply bit into the fingers capturing his mouth.

"Arsch!" Gilbert cursed, swinging his arm down to hold the punctured appendage between his legs in a comforting position. "Goddammit..!"

Lovino slipped down from he chair, disappearing from sight underneath a wide table that covered much of the room, followed by the teasing individuals.

Usually, Alfred would be amused by the tactics, but he couldn't quite place the aching in his stomach.

"He's a good friend." Alfred finally said, slamming his fists on the table to lift himself up. "I'll admit that. And I made this wrong. I have to fix it."

The scurrying males all stopped to gaze at him.

"If It wasn't for me- although Gil has huge fault in this- he'd still be living out his perfect life... so I have to get him back. Or at least try. Even if I'll just fail again. Art deserves that much from me."

"So I have a favor to ask you," He continued, a new fire blazing in his eyes. "I know you guys have helped so much, but Artie's gonna be featured in a film in another day. I need to stop him before he makes another mistake. Could you all... maybe... get money from your ATM accounts so I could buy a plane ticket? I will, too, but... I don't think I have enough. I promise I'll pay y'all back!"

Feliciano squealed from the corner of the room, standing up with an excited clap dying on his hands. "Of course! Anything to help!"

"Agreed." Antonio added.

"I guess, if it'll keep you out of our hair for a night..." Gilbert nodded.

In turn, Francis began digging in his duffel bag. "I know, usually, you're quite a pain, but Arthur seems to need the help. Besides, I need another teacher to call irritating."

Lovino finally poked his head out last, sighing at his decision. "..Fine."

Alfred burst into a wide grin, immediately running over to knock at the door. "Then let's hurry!...Before my mom gets here."

* * *

One 8 hour plane flight later, Alfred found himself stumbling out into a dank, afternoon atmosphere. It had been around 2 am when Alfred's plane finally boarded and he was able to leave- just in time for his mother to go searching through the entire airport, while Mathew discreetly sent texts back and forth about how their mother would murder him if she found out- and, with the 4 hour time difference between Virginia and the Denmark town he couldn't pronounce the name of, along with the amount of time it took to get here, half-a-day had effectively passed by now.

In his hands, Alfred held three things: his wallet, the passport he always kept along with it, and an address to a recording studio, along with a time written down the side. According to the computer work Matt had done for his brother, there was a production on the website for the studio's schedule of filming times. If it was the right one, and Arthur really started to, it was likely this was where he would be.

A text came in over Alfred's cell phone, making the assigned jingle play happily as his phone buzzed.

_**Text from**__: Matt_

_**To**__: Alfred_

_**Sent at**__: 10:32 am _

_bro mom found out i was texting you. she said to be safe and your grounded when you come home_

Alfred grinned to himself, before flipping out of the messaging application, and turning on his GPS. In a few minutes, a little flag had been placed about 5 miles from him, a red ball representing where he stood. When he went to take a step, his stomach rumbled, signaling what was on his mind. How hungry he was.

"I' have to go get Artie before he lets out for the day..." Alfred mumbled to himself, holding his slightly pudgy abdomen. "Ugh. I guess I can go get him after a bite to eat."

* * *

His hunger satisfied, Alfred had settled into a steady pace a she trudged through the foreign streets of Denmark. Honestly, the only country Alfred had been to besides Mexico outside America. He didn't travel that often, so it's not as if he had much tourist experience. Especially in a country that didn't speak the same languages as he.

His IPhone beeped, and on the lock screen, it displayed a notification that he was within a block of his destination. Those few words made his breath catch, and getting a new burst of energy, the man took off running towards his target.

* * *

"You can't enter without a pass." This phrase was repeated what seemed to be FIFTY-BAJILLION TIMES to Alfred every time he attempted to open his mouth to protest the rule that the bouncer used to keep him offset. It made sense. Honestly, what would it be like if everyone could sneak onto a porn set without proper identification? Though it didn't help his assistance at the moment.

"But...I hafta get to my friend!" He groaned, practically on his knees at this point.

"You can't enter without a pass."

"Come one, dude-"

"You can't enter without a pass."

"Just for-"

"You can't enter without a pass."

"But I-"

"You can't enter without a pass."

"Jus-"

"You can't enter without a pass."

"Okay!" Alfred finally cried, burying his face in his hands in frustration. "I get it! I'll leave!"

If you saw Alfred walking away with a glum expression plastered on his face, you'd most likely think he was serious, and was indeed giving up. Though, knowing the mischievous teen, you'd expect him to maybe find a member of the production heading into the studio, and try to convince them to hand over their outfit and badge, so Al could sneak into the building. Maybe that member would offer to make a quick trade of a little attention down south for his outfit, and pretending to agree, Alfred would lead them to the restroom, only to strip them off all clothing- though it was way too small for him- and pass the line of guards undetected while the other ran nude through the lot in search for his clothes?

That sounded exactly like something Alfred would do.

Snugly inside the building he had been marching to for over an hour, Alfred quickly took off down an empty hallway stretching out to his right. He honestly had no where to go, or even how to tell the directors from the producers and vice-versa, but wandering and guessing hadn't failed him before. He stepped past another bathroom when he suddenly heard someone shouting out one word.

"Arthur."

Stopping in his tracks, Alfred back-tracked to the door he'd heard it echoing out of, and pushed it in slightly. Inside were other men dressed nearly identical to the American, along with one single figure dressed in a tux, with a scepter in his hands, and a tacky crown placed on his head.

Mathias.

"Arthur sure is a cutey!" He boasted, snickering in his rather irritating way that made Alfred want to punch him in the throat. "Just earlier, when I whispered to him I found the condoms, his face turned redder than a cherry!"

Alfred slowly stepped into the room, keeping his head down to avoid being recognized, but wanting to stay part of the conversation.

"Burt is that you?" A short man with a high voice asked, placing a hand on Alfred's lower arm. Without looking, the boy nodded, only to receive a shrill laugh. "Good! Our next take is in 2. We thought you wouldn't make it back."

Alfred cracked a forced grin in response, shrugging his heavy-set shoulders. "U-Um.. where exactly do we meet?" He coughed, trying to cover up his clear lack of an accent the best he can. "I feel like I forgot."

"'Ey, it's okay. We can go now. Come on." The short man chortled, dragging Alfred along behind him. "See ya' guys on set!"

* * *

"Fem...Fire...Tre... To...En!"

On that cue, Alfred's arms stiffened, and just like the other men, all dressed in knee-high, black combat boots, gray, tight tank-tops, camo jeans, and black paint across their pants, he began flapping the long leaf that was placed in his hands. He sucked in a breath, and if he knew what was coming up next, then the awaited couple would be traveling down the red-carpet soon.

With a long bang, the doors were opened very delicately by the men dressed like him at the end of the line. And in walked two figures. One being Mathias in his attire from earlier, accompanied by a figure of white.

The man on the left was dressed in a flowing, white dress, quite like traditional ancient Greeks used to wear. Weaved in his hair was a crown of gold, looking very classy atop his head. Various items dangled from his wrists and ankles, making a slightly clinging as he walked. Though he didn't really walk... it seemed more as if he floated.

Clasping onto Mathias's arm, Arthur was pulled along, a gentle smile on his face. It seemed way too forced for him, though. Meaning he was just staying in character for the cameras.

Lining the red carpet were the men dressed like Alfred- about 30 of them- all in rows that led to an entrance of a fake building, labeled "STRIP CLUB" in flashing, neon words. Seemed like quite the odd plot line for a porn, but... foreign people.

Alfred suddenly realized the man he was after had grown increasingly close in the time he took to think, and in his haste to catch his mind back, he nearly dropped the leaf he was still pushing air with.

"Shall we go in, my goddess?" Mathias hummed, just loud enough for the cameras to hear, and nipped at the smaller male's neck. Arthur jumped, clearly surprised by it. He nodded, opening his lips to talk.

"Wait a sec'!"

Clearly, the words hadn't come from the Brit's mouth, and the entire cast and crew spun to see another person talking wildly.

"I-Is that..." Arthur stumbled on his words, eyes wide, as he dropped his hold on the other.

"Arthur, you can't...!" Alfred panted, releasing his hold on his prop as it fluttered to the floor.

"Alfred, what are you doing-!?"

Arthur was cut off when the American once again began to speak. "You know you don't want this." He breathed out, his mind racing with things he so desperately wanted to voice. Yet, when he tried to, his mind suddenly drew up a blank. This caused him to be silent for seconds, before he found the words to continue. "I know you're probably thinking of a million ways to prove me wrong right now, but I know you!"

Mathias glared to Alfred, raising his voice and wanting to fight him so badly. But he was stopped when one of the extras grabbed his wrists and shook his head.

"...Arthur, I've known you for two months. That's probably not as long as most people, or even long enough for a friendship to form. But you and I? We hit it off. We belong together, Art. In some way or another. We had to meet. We had to become neighbors. It wasn't just some funny coincidence... Arthur... it was like, destiny or something."

"I know I'm not some amazing romantic. I know I haven't been really clear with how I feel. I know I don't do all that lovey-dovey crap you see in those terribly comedies you like so much, and I know I'm kind of an idiot at times. Even if you say it's my fault, and it's really just your terrible teaching... I still pretend like it's me!"

"Since the day I met you face-to-face, I thought you were a total ass-wipe and a dork. And those eyebrows... wow. I don't even want to get started. But Arthur... I love those things about you. I love your adorable laugh... I love the way your face turns red when you get corrected... I love the way you're so damn OCD about everything... I love the way you keep secrets from everyone else... but you open up to me whether you realize it or not..." Alfred sucked in a breath, trampling the prop on the floor as he stepped closer to the other. Confidently, he gripped the other's shaky hand, and brought it up towards his own cheek.

"Dammit, Arthur... I love everything about you... I love _you_."

There was a tense silence as Alfred racked through his mind to find something to say. Not knowing what else to do, and just going along with the moment, he made one last life-changing decision.

Alfred bent over, swept his arms around Arthur's lower back, and lifted him to his toes to anchor him into the most breath-taking kiss either of them had ever had.

Within mere seconds, Alfred felt Arthur's reaction. He was kissing back.

It was warm. It was soft. It was delicate and slow. It was everything about the silly blond Alfred loved. His nose detected a wonderful scent of chocolate and tea. The American probably reeked, but... he just begged to himself Arthur didn't notice.

Alfred wouldn't have ever pulled away, had he not run out of breath ever-too-quickly after babbling on forever. And when he did, the first thing that met his ears was happy cheering and clapping, the witnesses to the love-scene sounding generously moved by Alfred's speech. Somewhere along the way, Mathias had left the room, though, honestly, it was obvious neither Alfred nor Arthur cared.

"...Let's go home..." Arthur whispered, nuzzling his forehead into the crook of the other's neck.

"I'd love to."

* * *

**This isn't done yet. Oops. I have a few chapters left. Wow, I think I'm gonna cry from that.  
I mean, I don't plan on writing a sequel, but... maybe I'll come up with a plot?  
Probably not. The ending should be left as it is.  
Anyways, thanks for reading! R&R? **


	11. I'm Bringing Sexy Back

**Rating: T+ **  
**Warnings: Porn mentioning, language **  
**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the movie, nor the anime. **

* * *

**I'm already almost done with chapter 12. Aren't y'all proud of me? **

**Anyways, I hope to have it up as soon as possible... which means... **

**This is the second to last chapter of this story. **

**Trust me, I'm going to miss it a lot. This has been so fun to write, you don't even know. Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! It makes me rather happy to read them. **

**Right now, I'm trying to come up with follow up plots if I possibly write a sequel. Though I'm still not sure if I will. I guess I'll have to consult with my editor. Even if this story was supposed to be her Christmas present.**

**Also, in some news that really isn't super important, Senpai noticed me. My favourite author on Fanfiction ever called me sweet on tumblr. Her name is Desinty-Shiva, and if your like FrUkUs, she has this two-part story she's started updating again. The first part is a one shot, and the second is multi-chaptered. **

**And, here's words that pertain to the story. **

* * *

Arthur had been in the porn business since he was 18, Alfred soon found out. He came from a very wealthy family, and his parents constantly belittled and bossed him about taking the wrong paths, and not following the family business. Which happened to be selling very expensive and high-end toiletries.

When he reached the age of 14, he'd had enough of it. He began rebelling, simply by yelling or denying the nannies or butlers that tried to carry out strict orders from his parents. It was never a personal thing. He just needed a way to start.

Of course, there was one special nanny he held dear to his heart. Cecily. She was a tall woman, with stern eyes, but a very big heart and much sympathy. When Arthur was a child and ran crying to his room, she'd always be there to hold him and tuck him in to bed. He was always kind to her, even after he'd begun fighting back the forces that hammered him.

Around 15, his grades dropped. Arthur began skipping school to go down to the skate park with a group of boys that weren't the best influence. They convinced him to get a tattoo- though, Elizaveta, who had moved and switched to a school at the other end of the city, was completely against it- which he modeled after his favourite sport; football. Following, he began to get piercings; two on his left ear, on his nipple, his belly button, and his lip. He took on smoking and drinking, and often spent his weekends in bed with a terrible hangover, treated by Cecily for nights on end.

Arthur made no move to cover it up from his parents. Instead, he flaunted it, wearing huge earrings and sagging his jeans to show off his ink. He'd often bring his friends home, displaying their imperfections to add to the fire.

Though, after a while, around when he hit 17, it became part of his personality, not just a way to get back at everyone. That year was when he lost his virginity to his best friend at a party. Of course, it wasn't kept secret. The news of his first time spread like wildfire. Not just because it was one of the school bullies, but the fact he was now confirmably gay.

Being approached by others to ask if it was true was more embarrassing than Arthur wished. But in his mind, he needed to cover it up. Which led to more and more sex. It escalated to the point he'd be doing it with different people, whether adults or kids his own age- once or twice a week.

A week after his 18th birthday, one of the boys that he'd begun to see regularly approached him. He told about his cousin, who lived in Las Vegas, that was also a producer for films.

Adults films.

Arthur truly didn't want to do it. He thought selling his body for others to watch seemed a bit too far. But the pay seemed rather good, and these days, while he had all the money he wanted coming from his parents, he really didn't have any kind of future laying out for him. So he agreed to take the interview.

And, soon, he was starring in solos to prove his worth.

One thing led to a next, he climbed the popularity level in the porn industry, and he was becoming a requested regular for several different companies. This little thing was kept hidden extremely well for months, until a DVD of his was found by his snooping mother in the back of his closet. To say the least, she was mortified. And, in a rage, she kicked Arthur from the house, and cut off his money supply until he'd fixed himself up.

That night, Cecily held Arthur and cried, begging him to stop selling himself land come back. She admitted was about 29 now, much too old to be babying him, and instead felt her feelings developing. She had a contract, and couldn't leave the estate for another 4 years, and wished she could spend the remaining with the boy.

That was also the last night Arthur ever saw her.

He continued on his climb. At this point he was 20, and a very well known addition to many gay men films, and had a lot of money. He'd lost all his previous friends, his family, and even his long-term caretaker he'd loved like a sister since he was young.

Somehow, he got accepted into a nearby college in his town, and quit his previous job. He got a part-time job as a janitor at the local high school, rented out an apartment, and got his teaching degree in his favourite school subject; literature. Within that year, at age 24, he'd been offered a substituting position at that same school that would change his life once more.

* * *

Alfred brushed a lock of hair from Arthur's eyes, watching it flutter and rest behind the other's ear. Everything about him was soft like always, though he carried a messy appearance from falling asleep on the plane. Emerald green eyes blinked up at Alfred for moments, before the lips under them began speaking.

"...Thank you." He said plainly.

"For what?"

"Coming to get me..."

Alfred grinned in pride, leaning into the older teacher and kissing his forehead. "What, did you think I'd just let you run back to that?"

Then came the almost silent answer. "I caught you watching the videos. ...I was sure that's all you saw me as."

Alfred sighed heavily, almost as if he was talking to a child. He wound his fingers in the other's grasping his much smaller hand within both of his own. "Arthur, you're hot. I'll admit that. And I'm a teenage boy racing with hormones. Of course if I see someone that I like doing that kind of stuff, I'm gonna be intrigued. But that was your past. Kinda... a benefit to your awesome personality and stuff. I wouldn't want you to ruin your life by entering that kind of business again. It can't be healthy for you!"

A smile fell on Arthur's lips, lifting Alfred's heart, until the Brit realized he was and replaced it with a scowl. "I'm a perfectly grown adult. You don't need to watch out for me."

Laughing, Alfred brought his arms around the other to draw him in. "It's just like you to ignore every nice thing I say to find a flaw. But, y'know what? It's fine. 'Cause I know you're secretly loving it."

"I am not! You talk in too much slang for me to even think they were halfway romantic!"

"Mhm."

"I'm serious!"

"Interesting."

"I'm about 5 seconds away from knocking out your eye."

Alfred rested his hand atop Arthur's lips, securing them shut. "Ssh. Let's just enjoy the night air while we can."

He adjusted himself on the airport bench, settling Arthur's torso snugly on his lap. The blond complied, not really having anything else to do while Arthur's car was being fetched by the airport valet.

After minutes of silence, Arthur spoke.

"I never got the chance to tell you..." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"That was the first time you said your had feelings for me. And I guess I never really got to say anything."

"I already know your answer, Art-"

"Alfred," Arthur cut off, glancing up into his blue eyes with a smile. "I'm glad you were the one to make me stop. It's nice to be told by the person you love they want to be with you."

* * *

The two cruised along in a wonderfully comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. The wind brushed through their hair, as it flapped against the back of their seats. It was a rather warm summer night, and once Arthur reached their neighbor hood, about 4 minutes from their houses, he pulled over to the darkened curve and relaxed into his seat.

Alfred looked up from his smart phone, perplexed by their sudden stop. Before he could question it, Arthur turned his eyes to Alfred in a slight frown.

"What are we going to do about this? About you watching...that?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest, awaiting an answer.

Alfred's eyes widened and he sat up, shaking his head rather quickly. "Come on, I saw you, for like, an instant. But, Art, it wasn't a big deal, really!"

Arthur's mouth hung open, staring at him with a disbelieving offense.

"I-I mean," Alfred cut in, trying to save himself. "N-No, It was.. it was a big deal. Of course it was a big deal, but.. it's just that.. I didn't..." He cast his eyes to the floor, running a hand through his hair, at a loss of words. "I'm... sorry."

Arthur's brows gradually un-knit, his expression becoming more neutral. Breathing, he turned his body to face Alfred, and pulled his legs up onto the chair.

There was silence for a minute, before Alfred spoke again. Man, Arthur's stare was getting too pressuring. "...What?"

The next answer couldn't be good. A devious smirk flashed in the Brit's orbs. "You saw me."

Alfred cocked his head, nose crinkling in confusion. Arthur continued, "Shouldn't you repay the favour?"

The American froze, his eyes widening bigger. When Arthur said nothing else, Alfred couldn't help but nervously laugh, playing it off as a joke. "Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna strip here in the middle of everything."

Arthur didn't answer. Instead, he kept his smirk. Why wasn't he answering? Goddammit...!

"No." Alfred protested, sitting up and crossing his arms as Arthur had done before. "No. I'm not doing that."

* * *

Alfred groaned as lights flashed in his eyes, knocking out his vision for a second. When the flash cleared and he regained his sight, he saw the front of Arthur's small, red convertible- wow, what a sissy- with his amused face in the windshield. Alfred's hands shot down to his lower regions that were still covered with his plaid boxers, bouncing from bare foot to bare foot on the asphalt he was standing on.

Somehow, with his mere stare and words, Arthur had gotten Alfred to do it.

"That won't do," Arthur called out the window, directing his attention to the teen's obstructing and remaining clothes. "It needs to be the whole package."

"Come on, man!" Alfred hissed back, throwing his head around in anxiety. It'd be hell for his neighbors to see him now. "This is good enough!"

A loud horn blared in Alfred's ears, racking his brain. In a panicked frenzy, Alfred realized it'd most likely wake up the inhabitants of the surrounding houses, and he waved his hands to get his tormentor to stop. "Shit! Arthur, don't!" Alfred cried over the barking of nearby canines.

"Everything off, then!"

"But...!"

Arthur's hand hovered dangerously above the horn, making the American teen flinch. Finally realizing he had no where out, his hands traveled down below his hips. Slowly, he began to work the fabric off. "Jeezus... frickin' psycho..."

In a swift move, Alfred felt the bite of the night rush over his bare skin in all directions, and he dropped his underwear to the black ground. He tried his best to ignore the faux catcalls coming from inside the vehicle, looking anywhere but at Arthur.

"...There. Happy now?" Alfred sighed.

As an answer, the convertible revved, and began speeding forward. Directly in Alfred's path.

Alfred fell off to the side, landing in the nearby grass, avoiding the car by inches. When he looked back up again, his boxers were gone.

"Yup." Arthur teased, waving them above his head before depositing them in the back seat.

It took the blond about 5 seconds for him to respond out of shock, though, when he did, he was up on his feet and sprinting at his quickest speed after the departing car. "W-Wait! Art! C'mon, don't to this to me! Art!"

* * *

Arthur snickered under his breath. "I came back to pick you up."

"After my mom's best friend saw me!" Alfred pouted, maneuvering the car down another street on the way to their home. "God, now Grace's gonna find out."

"Oh, come now, love. It's not so bad." Arthur puffed out, leaning across the arm rest to plant a gentle kiss on Alfred's nose. It instantly perked the nearly-nude boy up, and his posture straightened rather quickly.

"Okay. I forgive you."

"I'm glad." Arthur settled back into his chair, rolling his eyes at the other's sudden mood change. "Have you gotten a date to prom, yet?"

"Prom?"

"That's what I said."

"I don't exactly need one."

"Why not? It's lame to go alone, Alfred."

"Well, it was yesterday."

Arthur stopped himself, an instant guilt building in the pit of his stomach. "When you were in Denmark... with me?"

Alfred nodded. He spared a look over his shoulder to see the saddened expression on the other's lips, which led him to chuckle sympathetically. "It's fine, Art! I wouldn't have wanted to go unless it was with you, anyways."

Arthur blinked, heat rising up his neck and dusting his face a light shade of pink. "Don't be silly. To make up for it, I'll come to your graduation and be sure to get enough pictures to satisfy that big head of yours."

"Um... see..." Alfred muttered, scratching the back of his head. "'Cause of budget, they planned it really close together. Graduation was tonight..."

Arthur looked positively distraught to the news.

"Don't worry, though. I didn't want to go anyways. It's not like they have a special diploma for heroes or anything."

Alfred pulled up to the front of Arthur's house. He unbuckled, and did the same for his partner, who now seemed to be lost in thought.

"I'll make it up to you." Arthur finally said, coming out of his state of incoherency. Though he was still staring off into the distance. "We don't need the car, but we have a bit of walking to do."

Alfred stared at him, bemused, signaling him to finish.

When Arthur finally regained his mind, he had the same rebellious look he had earlier. "Prom and graduation are for that one last crazy high school experience before you're made an adult. And tonight, Alfred, I'll make sure you get yours."

* * *

**My planning sequence on the Piratepad I write this on was literally; **

_**Alfred will interrupt the scene by posing as one of the extras, and will run after Arthur in a combat outfit**_

_**They'll have a make-up scene and kiss **_

_**Alfred and Arthur will go back home **_

_**Arthur will tell Alfred to strip for him **_

_**Alfred will do so**_

**Aren't I the best?**

**R&R if you liked it! Thank you! **


	12. It's a Teenage Dream Tonight

**Rating: M **

**Warnings: Smut, nudity, Language**

* * *

**Yes! I have finally reached the final chapter of this story.**

**Right?  
**

**Thank you to all of our kind reviewers and readers for staying with us the entire time. It's wonderful to see your names pop up again and again. **

**Yes. Enjoy this chapter- which is approximately 3.5 times longer than all of my other chapters, as it's 7,000 words- and stay beautiful~**

* * *

A leaf crunched somewhere behind Alfred, followed by muffled cursing. He simply smiled, finding the other's hesitation and nervousness to make it all the more fun.

"Weren't you a little rebel back in your day?" Alfred whispered behind him, not turning around. He surveyed the area, making sure the lights were off in the surrounding houses. Once it was made clear, the taller boy stood erect, stretching out his back to free it of the kinks from bending over.

"It's different when I was doing it to my parents, and against the law." Arthur huffed in reply, following lead. Ahead of a them, an hour-glass shaped pool was illuminated by overhead lights that made it a deep, clear purple. It was quite enticing looking, and on a warm night as tonight, it seemed perfect for what was coming next.

"Take your clothes off." Alfred commanded teasingly, turning to face his companion.

"Excuse me?"

"Are we going swimming or not?"

"..." Arthur shook his head softly, murmuring something about Alfred's shenanigans under his breath, and began pulling his shirt off. He deposited it in a pile, along with Al's, until the two were down to their briefs. "Won't it be dreadfully cold?"

"Tell me!" Alfred grinned. In the seconds it took Arthur to process it, he was hoisted into the air by Alfred's arms, held dangerously above the pool.

"D-Don't...!" Arthur shrieked, fingers clawing desperately onto Alfred's torso for dear life. He was like a cat. "Alfred F. Jones, put me down this instant!"

"Artie, you'll wake up the neighbors if you keep like this!"

The man was silent.

"There. Now, Have fun!"

Water flowed up Arthur's nose in an instant, as he was absorbed by cold liquid seeping into his clothing and hair. The male shut his eyes when stinging ran through them, and for a minute, lost his way as to where up was. When air hit his lungs once more, he coughed violently, freeing himself of the obstacle to breathe. "Y-you bottom-feeding tosser!"

Alfred seemed the least affected by the insult, and instead chose to dive in right behind him. He made quite the big splash, which made a good amount of noise, though no one seemed to stir. Arthur used his arms as a cover, shielding his eyes and mouth from the water that flew astray. When it cleared, and the other had surfaced, he folded his arms safely. The water was just as freezing as Arthur had predicted, though the adrenaline pumping through his veins from the risk they were taking kept his shaking down to a minimum.

"Loosen up," Alfred hummed into the Brit's uncovered ears. Without warning, he placed two hands on the man's hips, lifting him into his grip. Arthur about yelled to be let down, but the heat radiating against his back was rather calming. It sent a chill down his spine.

How did Alfred manage to be just as warm as his personality on the outside? He had flawlessly tan skin, which greatly contrasted with Alfred's milky-white complexion. It was quite amusing, actually.

Arthur let the flow of the water cling onto him, a slow beat pulsing against his skin from a near-by jet. He was whisked through the water, ripples echoing out from his figure as he was drifted. Some point in it, his body was turned, and pressed against him was a teddy-bear like figure, securely holding him in his grip. Their hands interlaced, and Arthur felt a light kiss fall across his cheek.

"I love you." Alfred whispered, his voice seemingly lower an octave. His words were smooth, reminding the blond of glass. His grip tightened. "I don't know what it is about you, Arthur but... since the moment I met you, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Alfred's hand nuzzled against the soft skin of the short man's chin, gently tilting it upwards until their eyes interlocked. They were held like that for second; hearts beating quickly against each other, chests pressed together, blinking at the same rate, both with their eyes searching for something that was there, but they couldn't quite place it.

And then, following their instincts, the two had their second kiss.

It lasted much longer than the last one. Both were clinging to each other, hands roaming down their bare backs and brushing against every imperfection. It was as if it never ended. As soon as they withdrew, Alfred took the action of pressing his forehead close to Arthur's, holding him as they floated with the slight current created by rushing water. The lights lit up their skin in a bright tone, and everything was finally at piece. Everything seemed right.

"Honey?! Who are those people?"

Loud screeching came from inside the house perched at the front lawn. Alfred nearly dropped Arthur from the shock of being caught, while the Brit scrambled to stay in his arms as not to go below the 6 feet water.

"Why the hell are you taking so long?" Arthur growled in a panic, his arms splashing to get Alfred to move. Inside, loud foot-steps cracked down a flight of stairs, and angry yelling flashed. "Get us out of here!"

Alfred blinked, forgetting his position in holding his love, and instead made his way as quickly as possible to the side of the pool. "Right." He hoisted Arthur up, using his arms to pull him up and out of the water. They were on their legs in seconds, rushing to exit the yard they were in. The glass back door slammed open, and out ran a husky man with puffed out cheeks, fury flashing across his face when he spotted the rambunctious duo.

"Get back here!" He sputtered, his neck jiggling as he jumped from foot to foot in anger.

Arthur didn't take a chance. Instead, he cast one glance back. He was met with surprise to see no one else than his own boss, whom he could only pray didn't recognize his face. If he lost his job...

"Arthur!" Alfred hissed under his breath, reaching out a hand. Arthur hadn't noticed he had slowed until his hand was seized by a much bigger one. And from there, they ran along side-by-side, hand-in-hand, down the side-walk in nothing but sopping boxers.

* * *

"Hold on, amigo!" Antonio's called out from inside the house. His feet slid across the empty, wooden floor, followed by another pair that belonged to Francis. The two teetered along to the front door, listening to the shouts from behind them, in the living room.

The three best friends- Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis- had all planned a special night to spend together playing a video game tournament while they waited for Alfred to return with the news. Only, at last minute, Lovino attempted to force Antonio in a date night, in which the Spaniard had no choice but agree to. And soon, he brought along his boyfriend to Gilbert's house.

While his friends didn't quite enjoy the company, they accepted him, and soon the four landed into a round of Soul Caliber. They truly didn't expect Lovino to do any good, and get frustrated and give up. Only, he ended up beating out Francis and Antonio, until he was left fighting for the win against Gilbert. Which was all they had been doing for half-an-hour while the losers stared on. Answering the door was really their only relief of boredom.

Antonio wrapped his fingers around the door handle, twisting his wrist to slip the door wide open. What he was met with made both he and Francis catch their breath.

On the porch was a certain shivering Brit, arms pulled around his sides to hug himself in an attempt to keep warm. His teeth weren't quite at chattering point, but, still, he looked quite cold. His hair was matted down against his forehead, dripping down his face with droplets of freezing water. This stream continued traveling down his torso, under his white t-shirt that held onto his skin rather tightly. It was now see-through, giving them a perfect view of his smooth stomach and very light skin. And a small, black ring that protruded from the piercing on his abdomen.. Down below, he only wore the shorts he'd been given that were packed away in his suitcase, though those did happen to stretch down mid-thigh. On the inside of his thigh was the single soccer ball that was still crystal clear, its flames inching up the hem of his shorts.

Arthur turned his eyes up to them, a hand massaging the back of his neck slowly. He had quite an innocent expression on his face, which was much different than other faces he'd put on. "I'm all wet," He said, tilting his head in the slightest. "Could I come in?"

Antonio stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure what to say. Even Francis was quite shocked at the question, and the fact they had someone they'd both though to be rather attractive now at their door-step and dripping.

"I-I u-uh..."

An obnoxious cackle fell down from the side of the house, and out popped Alfred as he jumped out next to the blond. With one excited hand, he slipped Arthur into his arms and kept him close bay his side. While his fingers were placed on his hip, they were dangerously close to more intimate places he'd not yet touched. "Hey, guys!" He cheered happily, finding their reactions completely hilarious. It was exactly as he'd planned. "I know y'guys know him already, but I don't think you ever got to properly say hi. This is Arthur"

Francis regained himself, raising an eyebrow towards his friend in a tad bit of confusion. "I see you've returned," he noted, smiling with slight envy at their close proximity. "Well, if I may so introduce myself, I'm Francis Bonnefoy, the lover of love. Unlike Monsieur McDonalds over here-"

"Antonio!" The brunette blurted out, interrupting the other. "Antonio Carriedo~!"

"..." Arthur took a moment to respond, letting out a sigh at his eagerness to butt in. "Yes. Trust me. I remember you both... too terribly well."

"May I, perhaps, make an even bigger impact on your memory?" Francis's words spun from his mouth. Calmly. Just as if he'd rehearsed them a million times.

Arthur turned a disgusted nose up to him, instead glancing up to the teenager on his side. "I can see your friends are worse than you are." He commented drily, shattering all hopes Francis might have had. "Now, seeing as your terrible lines seem to be over, would it be possible for me to use your restroom?"

Antonio stepped aside, allowing entry to the Brit. "Down this hall, the second door on your left."

Arthur nodded his thanks, following the same instructions he was given. Alfred, Francis, and Antonio couldn't help but watch, all eyes focusing on his perfectly sculpted figure. As he passed by the entrance into the living room, both Lovino and Gilbert appeared, poking their heads out in confusion. They spotted the blond, and Gilbert instantly froze and focused on the same item the rest were.

"What a nice a-"

"Antonio!" Lovino shouted, lurching forward before his target had time to do anything. He was taken by the ear, dragged down to Lovino's height, and dragged along back to the den. All the while, Lovino was shouting out angry curses in Italian, while Antonio begged for forgiveness.

"Man," Gilbert said in amazement, his mind focusing on the sight he'd witnessed. "How'd a lose like you score a hot piece of ass like that?"

"Guys, he may be smokin', but he has a great personality and he's really cute." Alfred sighed, folding his arms and resting against his buddy's wall in wait. "And I really like him."

Gilbert sighed, shaking his head, still surprised someone like him could get such a man. "Well, the stick-in-the-mud made himself useful and got us beer and wine. Wanna stay? I'm sure we could get some rather... 'entertaining' times outta Arthy when he's drunk."

Alfred blinked, not quite thinking of that himself. Sure... it'd be hilarious to see him drunk. But the kinds of things that were probably in his friends' mind weren't going to be pranks. More like getting the virgin laid for the first time.

Man, he really did consider saying yes. And when he finally about answered, there was a creak down the hall. Out stepped his lover, wringing out his hands to get rid of whatever water residue was left on the palms. Arthur readjusted his wet clothing, happening to glance up and catch the other's gaze. He sent him a gentle smile, brushing the hair from his eyes, as he started back in their direction.

At that moment, it was clear to Alfred. His feelings were not to be toyed with. In less than a month, Alfred had found his perfect soul-mate, and had completely fallen in love with him. They'd gone through quite a lot within that time, and he'd finally gotten his Arthur back. This was something he didn't want to mess up.

"Sorry, Gil," Alfred said, only half into the conversation as he waited anxiously for Arthur to reach him. "But I think Art and I have a date to get back to."

The emerald-eyed male made a shocked gasp when he was pulled by the hand towards the door, neither of the two turning back to say goodbye. Once the cold air washed over them, by the chattering of Arthur's teeth, Alfred remembered he must have been freezing. "Here," He grinned, and pulled off his own jacket. He gentle settled it on his shoulders, and began bringing him along behind him to the car. Arthur accepted the garment happily, pulling it tightly around himself.

* * *

"I've prepared only the finest meals for Lady Arthur," Alfred teased, dangling the picnic basket in the air above his head.

Arthur frowned indignantly at the nickname, making a snatch for the item. "Just give it to me!" He chided, not quite enjoying the fact he wasn't able to reach it from his seat on the ground.

In response, he received a mocking laugh, and the box was placed onto the blanket they rested on, both cross legged

"And what is on the menu, fair knight?" Arthur mumbled, though it was clear their way of talking was growing on him. "A scrumptious grub composed of hamburgers and fries?"

"Why, I chose something M'Lady would enjoy as well." Alfred instead pulled out a plate of halved sandwiches, stacked high to the top. In between the white pieces of bread were different coloured layers. "Pb&J's."

Arthur stared at them for seconds, soon breaking out into a fit of snickering. He couldn't quite grasp why it was so funny, but it amused him greatly to be served such a 'fancy' item.

Alfred rolled his eyes at the teasing, and brought out two bottles filled high with milk, and a plastic bag of cookies, resting them out next to their entree "C'mon. It's the best I could do in 5 minutes."

It was currently around 1 am, and the stars were brightly twinkling overhead. Everything was peaceful and quiet, only being broken by the occasional croak of a frog or sound of a cricket. The two sat outside in Arthur's backyard, planning the perfect way to top off their night; with an impromptu picnic under the stars.

Their day had been crazy. After pool crashing and visiting Gilbert, they took off to go to Alfred's house, where they played a game of HORSE Alfred had clearly let Arthur win, and jumped on the trampoline for about an hour, both pushing each other down when they bounced high, and performing tricks to the best of their abilities. Arthur was actually the best at this, doing amazing flips and high jumps Alfred hadn't ever accomplished. Still, it was very fun.

Then the two decided to head to Arthur's. They sat around watching a movie for a bit, until they both got bored by the monotone dialect, deciding they needed to eat. Alfred, wanting to be spontaneous, sent Arthur to go fetch a blanket for them to rest out on. He packed the food, and soon they had wound up near his vegetable patch watching bunnies or birds scamper by with seeds from the garden.

Arthur, wanting to humour the other, complied in consuming the items. He reached out, taking the smallest half he could find, and let it fall past his lips. After taking a bite, the creamy insides gushed out onto his tongue, and while hard to swallow, the milk certainly did help him down it.

"Hmmm? How is it?" Alfred poked. "The best, right?"

Arthur heaved a sigh in response. "I suppose I'd call it the best-cheapest food I've ever had."

"Ha!"

* * *

Not much had gone on between them since they'd finished eating. Both were stuffed, hardly having enough room fort he Oreos they'd raced over eating, and hardly awake. They simply were laughing, telling jokes that weren't all that funny, but made them crack up anyways. Alfred had his small IPod out and playing, his dorky favourite band shooting out through the small speakers.

"You don't even know half of-..." Alfred cut himself off mid-sentence as soon as the newest song began to play, making him sit up in utter delight. "Hey! This is my jam!"

"Please never say that again," Arthur sighed, fixing his shirt as he followed the lead. Ahead of him, Alfred began to sway to the beat, quite absorbed in the song.

"If we ever dance together, Artie, this is what we have to do it to!" He grinned.

In Arthur's mind, a gear turned, and he got a sudden impulse to help complete his way of making everything up. "Alfred, we still never got to give you a prom." He noted with a frown, and stood up. Without the other reacting much, he took the steps over to extend a hand in the fool's direction. The American blond cast a look of confusion, until he realized exactly what was happening.

"Let's do it!" He cheered, and bounded to his feet without the aide like a small puppy. Arthur stepped back, chuckling under his breath. Though, instead of grabbing the man like he expected, instead Alfred kneeled down to one knee, took Arthur's hand, and placed a very delicate kiss on it. The other felt his temperature turn up a bit in his face, his cheeks getting warm.

"Arthur Kirkland," Alfred said in his lower voice, trying to seduce Arthur to the romantic idea best he could. "May I have this dance?"

Arthur did his best to hide his beam, but alas, the move was too dorky and sweet he couldn't hold back. "Why, love," He whispered. "I'd be honoured to."

And that was all it took. Alfred raised to his feet, taking hold of Arthur's right hand, grasping onto his left waist, and began leading him around the bushes and flowers beneath them. He was sloppy and uncoordinated when it came to dancing, and often Arthur found his feet scuffed, but it was still just.. magical to him.

"_You don't know you're beautiful_," Alfred began singing along to the song, into Arthur's ear. The Brit let his head fall into just the crook of his shoulder, being whisked around softly, like a doll. "_If only you saw what I could see, you'd understand why I want you so desperately. Right now I'm looking at Art and I can't believe... You don't know- oh, oh- You don't know you're beautiful-Oh, oh_." He tenderly kissed the other's ear, spinning him around the pumpkins. "_That's what make you beautiful._"

The song ended, and soon, another flashed on behind them. It was faint and hardly heard, but still, it lit up their night like a torch. This continued on for hours; the two of them holding each other calmly, teetering to the music, giggling from the pure ecstasy that filled them. They never planned on stopping, until an hour later, Arthur raised his head, pulling Alfred down into a teensy kiss.

"Alfred."

"Yeah, babe?"

"Tonight was.. perfect." He breathed, running hands through the taller one's hair.

"It really was..."

"And I'd like to... present you with the graduation gift I prepared for you."

"Really? Awesome! Where is it?"

"Just follow me..." Arthur mumbled, his face redder than Alfred had ever seen it. And slowly but surely he got the idea.

"You don't have to! I swear that's not all I want, Art."

"I know it's not," Arthur mumbled back, brushing his hand down Alfred's cheek. "It's what I want."

And with that one line, Alfred pressed the other close.

* * *

Neither of the two men could quite recall when they had wound up on the top floor. It was as if a warp had taken place, and without either consciously knowing, they'd worked their way up the stairs, to their destined bedroom. It wasn't something awfully lustful that left them begging each other to head up to the bed already and have it all happen. Instead, they had steadily taken their time, beginning with a longing embrace against the glass door leading outside. It led to each dragging the other along, and somehow they'd made it without any complications or injuries.

Instead, they both felt their switches gradually flicking on, leaving them both in a state of romantic avarice.

Alfred's hands groped to pull the other's legs high up to his waist, doing his best to gracefully hoist the smaller man into his arms. Lips trailed down the exposed skin of his throat, locking tightly around his collar bone. He took extra care in consuming this area, knowing it to be a rather sensitive place on most people. And just as anticipated, Arthur reacted heavily, dipping his head and neck backwards to give him more of an access point to the area.

While keeping the callous man in this position, he lowered the other onto the fastidiously folded sheets of the bed, elevating his back against the pillows to give them both a better view of each other. While it certainly wasn't Arthur's first time, it only seemed right to keep everything romantic and slow-paced. This wasn't about the sex. This was now only about the love.

Alfred's hands roamed freely, through every nook-and-cranny they located. It seemed to him he couldn't get enough of the flawless skin, no matter the place. Every given part of this boy was brilliant, and the American certainly wanted a taste of it.

His fingers grazed over Arthur's delectable chest, bringing along with it the fabric of his t-shirt. It slipped up above his head, freeing his arms. It was clear he was flushed everywhere through his body. Alfred could only begin to imagine what beautiful sights he'd behold in the next hour.

Alfred's tongue flicked out across a single perk nipple, running across the nub with excitement. Teeth gently took the tip between them, causing the owner of it to gasp out at the bitter-sweet feeling pulsing to his head.

Arthur tossed his head to the right, eyelids fluttering from the pure feeling. It was different. From everything. He'd never felt like this during sex... before, it was just that. Nothing connecting emotionally. But now, he felt a faint sense of joy. It was as if his entire past had simply washed away. And with that, came the presence of nothing else but he and Alfred.

He scrunched his nose when the familiar sound of zipping pants brushed through him. He lifted his bum in the slightest, giving just enough room for his jeans to be removed. Suddenly, Arthur felt a bit self-conscious. After all, he was used to be one of the last undressed, and being watched and taken care of with his needs in mind first was unprecedented.

"Alfred," Arthur spoke, flicking an eye open. It took seconds to adjust, and when it did, he was met with the beautiful sight of the attractive man. "Let me help you as well."

Doing as he was told, Alfred fell back onto his rear, legs extended out around him with Arthur between. Said man perched himself on all fours, crawling over until he was directly in front of the blond. He wiggled his arms in the same manner as Alfred had, working off the perpetrating shirt in a hurry. In fact, he wouldn't have stopped to smell the roses had a hand not touched his wrist to ease the nervousness shaking through his limbs. Arthur took the hint, and instead went to work on the opposite regions he'd been heading for. He leaned close, following a similar pattern as to what had been done to him. Though he focused more on the perfectly sculpted abs stretching out the length of Alfred's mid-section and abdomen.

His hands washed over the muscles, squeezing them as gently as possible. It wasn't as if he was afraid to hurt him, of course. But with Alfred's cunning demeanor, they seemed almost planted. Following was his tongue, running it down the altitude of the shapes. It continued down... further... and finally he was there.

The fabric slipped off easily, and Arthur was quite grateful for the very slight addition. Arthur stripped Alfred nearly bear, leaving only the boxer shorts he had been swimming in earlier. Now, they were only slightly damp.

"Hey, Art? Y'don't hafta." Alfred laughed. "I'm flattered that you would, but if you don't want to, I'm good."

"Let me alone," Came the critical reply, and in seconds, a very hot cavern closed around the organ beneath, already hardening, from outside the boxers. Alfred let out a breathy moan, surprised by the marvelous feeling it brought on. Arthur was quite satisfied by the reaction, and worked his hands into gently massaging the hilt of his dick. He continued to pleasure the younger one, trailing his mouth down the sides. Not for long, however. Alfred's gasps and groans were an indication to his levels of turn-on rising, and the louder they got, the harder he became. Arthur completely blanketed the head with his lips, though still through the fabric, teasing the slit with skilled precision. It was like... he knew exactly what to do already to leave Al writhing.

"N-Ngh Art, you're... really good at this," Alfred admitted, causing the Brit to flush. He gripped onto the other's hair, using all of his might not to convince Artie to take in as much as he could of him. "Ah, right there."

Following his instructions, Arthur led down to the area Alfred said felt best, beginning to bob his head. It started out low, the fabric creating an uncomfortable friction against his chin and tongue, but it subsided, and he began to enjoy eliciting honest sounds of ecstasy from the other. He felt the organ throb in his mouth, warming up and growing to sizes much bigger than had been expected.

"I don't think I can hold it in," Alfred groaned, his eyes screwing shut from the delicious feeling. Somewhere from inside Arthur's throat came an approving grunt, and only taking as a 'go ahead,' Alfred let himself be absorbed. Heat exploded from his tip, sending a rather hot liquid burning down the front of his pants. Arthur pulled back his head, very slight drops of white on his chin and upper-lip. Most of it had been caught by his shorts, anyhow.

Alfred fell back onto the bed, out of breath from the first sexual experience he'd ever had. Already, it was panning into a great night. "You're like an expert or something."

Arthur sighed in exasperation at the clear ignorance of his phrase, and simply placed a gentle kiss on his nose in an attempt to get him to keep his embarrassing- though much appreciated- words to himself.

Alfred took the opportunity to slip from his boxers, holding them at a great distance from himself. They were a mess, and he'd probably end up getting rid of them anyways. If it was his own house he'd have thrown them straight to the floor, but since he had no other choice, they were instead tossed on the top of his shirt.

And then he turned his attention back to Arthur, a rather new appetite flashing in his bright-blue orbs. He was on him in seconds, pinning him down onto the mattress excitedly and capturing his neck once more. "Lube?" He whispered with his voice ablaze, not wanting to be distracted from the moment with another thought.

"The right drawer."

Alfred quickly located it, drawing out a small bottle of water-based lubricant, along with a roll of condoms. Honestly, he was pretty glad to find those, as he hadn't brought his own to use. Arthur probably wouldn't be afraid to part with just one. Alfred first began slipping off Arthur's last article of clothing, leaving him in the buff, and grabbed the liquid. He spread it across the three fingers he knew to work best, using his bare hand to adjust Arthur's legs to form a V across the two sides of Alfred's waist, leaving Arthur's arse off the covers. "Ready?"

Arthur took a moment to gather his thoughts. It wouldn't take a genius to find out just how much he disliked foreplay. To him, while it was necessary, it was uncomfortable and a waste of time. If he could skip it while still being able to walk, he would, but even with all he had done in the past, it was still a requirement to go on. He signaled yes with a quick nod.

The digit pushed past his tight ring of muscle quickly at first, as to make sure it could get in, and then slowly proceeded in through his body. Alfred was being extra careful not to do any damage, and while it didn't hurt, he could feel the uncomfortable pressing of it on his insides. Alfred glanced down at him with a cocked head, waiting for any kind of indication for him to continue. He found it within a glance sent his way, and basically having an idea of what he was to do, he began thrusting in his finger.

Arthur's hands worked to massage his temples, keeping his head level and off the feeling. Instead, he focused on the pleasureful side of it. There was a light at the end of that tunnel, at least.

Just as soon as the first finger had been inserted, a second one accompanied it. This brought on a sort of stinging Arthur was used to, so it didn't have too much of an effect on him. But the scissoring side of them was enough to cause him to moan out. Half-way through that, though... something wonderfully good was struck inside him at his core.

He knew exactly what the feeling was, but it shocked him. Lacking any kind of censoring, Arthur let out a needing mewl, tossing his head to the side in surprise. A strange warmness filled his stomach, very familiar to his past experience.

"There?" Alfred hummed in amusement, prodding at the spot once more. Arthur had the same reaction as before, fingers twitching and toes curling in. From then on, Alfred knew exactly where to focus his attention, though that wasn't necessarily a good thing. The sneaky boy would sometimes jab at it straight on, giving the delicious sensation to the Brit, and sometimes only graze it. It was quite a hilarious cycle, though the games were only fun for him. In the midst of it all, Alfred managed to sneak in the third finger. Stretching them to the brim. He wanted to know Arthur was completely ready before they did anything, alas he break him.

Just when Arthur was on the brink, the fingers retreated. "Alfred, don't you bloody stop-!" His complaints were silenced when they were instead replaced by something more solid and wider, but nothing quite in him yet. Instead, Alfred worked on a condom over his length and girth, struggling a bit with the rubber. After all... he hadn't ever really used one before.

"Okay, Art." Alfred grinned, his voice heavier than usual. It was finally that time they'd been working up to all night. The big moment. "You ready?"

Arthur nodded just as before.

"I'm going, then."

Alfred wasn't expecting exactly what happened when he pushed in. He was immediately met with a tight fire engulfing his entire dick. It was simply _wonderful_. Arthur clenched around him the second he intruded, all the way until he had dug himself in to the base. When he had, he pressed two hands into Arthur's sides to hold him steady, watching for his reaction.

Arthur, meanwhile, had let his head droop back into the feathery pillows below him. His entire body went into a lock down when he was penetrated, muscles tightening up and leaving him panting into his hand. It had been a good 4 years since he'd had this kind of sexual contact, and, wow, it was everything he'd remembered and more. While it hurt, it also gave him a delightful feeling adding to the bonfire in his abdomen. It took him more than three minutes to adjust and loosen, and to coax himself into a more relaxed state. Alfred continued to whisper into his ear, giving him phrases such as, 'trust me,' or, 'I'll keep holding onto you, babe,' or even, 'It'll feel better soon.' If he wasn't focusing all his thoughts onto the item in him, he'd have laughed at the role reversal the American portrayed.

"Is everything okay?" Alfred asked in slight worry, not sure how long it'd actually take his lover to tell him to go.

"Just dandy." Arthur muttered under his breath, steadying his heart beat the best he could. When he'd calmed, he only said two words. "...go ahead."

Alfred nodded eagerly, having finally gotten the OK, and proceeded to withdraw himself half-way. Then, without much warning, he pushed back in.

Arthur's mouth contorted to that of a cry, though nothing actually came out. His mind became too numb to think. All he could really focus on was the friction sparking down below as he was bounced at a steady pace. The speed picked up, as well did the power in each movement- seeing as Alfred was very young and an athlete, he had excellent stamina that kept him going quickly and strongly- and the intensity in the sounds they both released. The pain began to fade, instead being replaced by extreme pleasure shooting in his brain.

And then Alfred found Arthur's bundle of nerves once more.

Arthur first gasped, crying out from the pure pleasure that echoed through him. It was a terrific experience, being followed by more and more expert aims at the area as Alfred discovered the angle he'd have to go at to locate it. Soon, Arthur was having the amazing bundle of nerves inside himself being pounded over and over again.

"Alfred," Arthur trembled out, stretching out his arms to wrap around Alfred's neck. The American complied, his breath speeding up with each individual nudge and rolling of his hips. "Alfred, I love you. _I love you!"_

"I love you, Arthur." Alfred groaned out in response, his mind a jumble and mush. "I love you more than I've loved anyone else. I-I can't last much longer..."

"Together," Arthur decided, eyes screwing shut as he clung onto Alfred's neck. He buried his face withing the other's shoulder, chest heaving.

Arthur felt the sticky-wetness sprinkle of his chest as he climaxed, his body shaking. The whiteness in his vision and foggy mind took a good minute to evaporate, leaving him shuddering and loosely holding onto Alfred, nearly immobilized

The younger teenager felt his arms wobble, and to prevent from falling onto Arthur, he withdrew himself from inside, and fell onto the bed. His fingers fished to take off the condom.

"Wow, Artie. I wouldn't have guessed you'd had sex before. You seemed kinda dependent on me." Alfred teased softly, exhausted out of his mind.

"I was letting you exercise your proclamation of your power," Arthur replied haughtily, breathing heavy. He drew the nearby covers up around himself, suddenly finding he was actually rather cold. Alfred grinned, his nude body disappearing under the blanket as well. He scooted over to join the private bubble of Arthur, slipping his arms and bringing the ex-teacher close. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and company of the boy in his arms, before speaking. "Arthur, you're my everything and...I'm just... super glad we met. I know, without you, I'd probably still be the dateless loser sitting at home playing video games. You didn't just change my relationship status... or my English grade.. you changed me. I feel like I'm a lot different than before. And that's all 'cause of you."

He waited for the other to say something. Though there was still silence. Pulling the hair from Arthur's face, it was discovered he had already passed out.

"Oh, Artie." Alfred sighed with a laugh, and nuzzled up close to his warm figure. "Everything I love about you..."

* * *

Alfred's inward debates were the worst. Not only was half the stuff spouted within his mind full of non-sense, but they also tended to be completely bi-polar options. Just like today. And this time... this was a huge one.

His feet paced down the long drive-way stretching up to Arthur's front door. He had so far gotten this close to completing his goal he had come here for, but every time he tried to do something, he stopped himself with another, "BUT IF." Truly the worst kind of situation.

It had been three weeks since Arthur and Alfred's date. They'd spent practically every day together for hours on end, talking and being silly as always. It was amazing how different Arthur could be around you if you got to know him.

But that wasn't pertaining to the topic. Alfred's dilemma was.

A week ago, instead of hanging out with the Brit like he wanted, Alfred had been informed by his mother he had to have a meeting with a very important guest, meaning he had to cancel the movie plans he'd made. And today, he promised Arthur he'd meet with him and explain who the man was who came to talk to him that had changed his life.

Of course, Alfred was now chickening out, but not in the way anyone would think. Alfred F. Jones wasn't afraid of anything! ...just a bit paranoid of the kind of reaction he'd solicit from the blond.

"Okay, I can't do this. I can't tell him." Alfred groaned, practically ripping out his hair. "I'll go back home and-"

"Alfred?" Arthur's voice asked from behind the American, and out stepped Arthur from his home.

Alfred's eyes widened in surprise, as he stammered out his reply. "Hey! ...How ya doin'?"

"Fine, actually." Arthur informed, quickly changing the subject. "But, what happened before? With the important guest?"

Alfred winced, knowing it was coming up. Well... he had to tell him sooner or later. "Art, uh..." Not knowing where else to go, he planted himself on the curve, patting the spot beside him. "I gotta talk to you."

Perplexed, Arthur did as he was told. He settled down, watching Alfred impatiently. God, when Arthur wanted an answer, he wanted it bad.

"So... the visitor yesterday was... a college scout."

"Mhm?"

"He saw me playing baseball... and..."

"Isn't that good?"

"Here's the problem. They want me to join the team. Full scholarship and everything... which would be really cool, since I doubt my grades are high enough to get one otherwise... but... Arthur, the school's not around here. It's... It's in Oklahoma...And I leave in two days."

Arthur froze, staring up at him without saying anything.

"Arthur, I want to go.. Really badly. Going to college is something I gotta do. I can't always laze around like I always do. But I don't think I'm going to. Because Virginia and Oklahoma are too far away. I can't be away from you that long. I mean... I need my Art!"

Alfred stopped when he noticed the other laughing. He wasn't sure what exactly to make of it..considering he was leaving. And Arthur was like, full on chuckling. Talk about rude. "What's so funny?"

"Alfred," Arthur mumbled, laughing, though it contained traces of sad tones. "You can't stay here because of me. I shouldn't be a factor in this. Your future is your choice. I'm proud you're choosing to go to college."

"Really?"

"Of course." Arthur placed a calming hand on top of the boy's, smiling gently. But no matter how he tried, Alfred couldn't help but notice the hidden frown beneath. "Live your dreams. Alfred. I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't. I'll always be here waiting for you."

Alfred's fist clenched. He couldn't stand to see Arthur sad. It always had that way of killing him inside. Like... kicking a puppy. And, dammit, his expressions were just the same! "Arthur. I promise I'll come back looking for you." He whispered, and kissed the other's cheek. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred tightly, embracing him warmly. "Damn.. I'll miss you so much..."

Hot droplets fell across Alfred's shirt, and it took him a full 10 seconds to realize both he and Arthur had begun crying.

"You blasted idiot," Arthur chuckled drily, his grip slacking so he could wipe at his eyes. "Look at you. You're a mess, and you haven't even left yet."

Alfred shook his head, unable to contain his grin. "Are you going to miss me that much?"

"...It's a given I am..." Arthur admitted, his pride finally caving enough for him to admit that he hadn't before. "I can't imagine why I'd just... be okay with you leaving. It's just... too hard to say goodbye."

"Well, then let's not say goodbye."

"What?"

"We don't have to say goodbye," Alfred laughed, and held in close once more. With a gentle kiss, he continued. "Let's just say...see ya later. Don't worry, Arthur. No matter what kind of people I meet, or who I become, you'll always be my special Brit Next Door."

_**~~~~Fin~~~~**_


	13. Epilogue

**I decided to have one more chapter- though I've been planning it all along- before I move onto my new stories. I hope you enjoy, and I really love that you all continued to read the story continiously! **  
**Thanks to all! **

**Rating: T  
Warnings: Language, porn mentions  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Girl Next Door! **

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College had been everything Alfred dreamed, and more. Sure, the work was hard, basketball was tiring, and the teachers were cruel and strict, but there were MANY more factors that made it exciting. The stories were entirely true! Cute girls around every corner, parties every night, and Alfred even got to live off the standard menu of instant Ramen, water, poptarts, and frozen waffles for every meal! It was truly a wonderful time.

Though one thing had always been missing. Alfred noticed it from day one. A sort of ache echoed off the walls of his stomach. It took him weeks to identify it. And when he did, it hung in his mind like a brick.

Arthur.

The ache could only be labeled as the loneliness that remains from that truly charming fellow.

But Alfred continued on with life. Every day, his routine remained the same; He'd get up, go to morning classes, eat whatever lunch he scraped together, go to afternoon classes, eat the second course of lunch, and head home on the goodwill bike he'd purchased a couple months back.

Today, the seat seemed more uncomfortable than usual. The wind blew back sandy-blond hair back behind Alfred's hair, and at the speeds he rode, the front wheel wobbled under his weight, creating a racket of cricketing squeaks. A grin spread across his face, and he couldn't help but speed up his peddling to speeds quicker than he'd dare gone before. He sunk to the right, disappearing behind a wave of brush and continuing down a steep hill. Alfred felt the air in his head lighten, and with a lighthearted whoop, he made a quick turn down the road leading to the left.

Big mistake.

"Holy sh-!" Alfred's full body slammed against a force that left him dazed. His mind was fogged, and for a full 40 seconds, his breathe had disappeared from his lungs. He gasped for air, cringing and writhing along the dirt-dusted sidewalk in pain.

A tall figure entered his blurred vision. At first, Alfred felt fear strike over him. After all, with the distorted thoughts going through his mind, it appeared some mythical creature had come over to curse him. He curled up into himself, never taking an eye off the shape the entire time. But as his mind cleared, he soon was met with something he hadn't expected; A man. Not just any man, but a sharply-dressed, thin, and rather surprisingly short man.

"Were you being a fool once again?" The man demanded, his voice carrying a crispness that was unique to its own. "Could you not figure out how to use your brakes? They're there for a reason."

Alfred quickly unfurled himself, forcing his focus onto the voice. He _knew_ it. He just had to figure out who...

"Arthur!" Alfred gasped in complete awe and glee. He pushed to his feet, moving past the dizziness that swept over him, and quickly wrapped his arms around the supposed place the Brit would be. Under him, he felt the muscles of him clench, and the tight embrace was returned with utter joy.

"Quite a reaction," Arthur laughed. He buried his head within the crook of Alfred's neck, taking in his scent with comfort. "Have you been lonely?"

Alfred drew back his head, taking a peek down to the wonderful sight in his eyes. "More than you'd know." He swept a kiss along the other's nose, pressing their bodies together in a delightful mash. Just the feeling of having this... this Brit in his hands... why... it made his entire week better. "So, Art, why'd ya come here? Not that I'm complaining! Just wondering!"

Arthur slipped his hands down to the ground, side-stepping the grasp of Alfred to locate his bag. "Read this." He said with only half-a-mind, the other set in on finding the paperwork in his bag. When he had, he quickly opened the packet to a page, and set it in Alfred's sights. "This paragraph, right here."

"Is that a deed?" Alfred muttered disappointment in his eyes. "C'mon, Art, can't you tell me? I don't want to waste energy."

"You're the college student, you can do it yourself."

"And you're the English teacher..." Alfred mumbled and began to recite it aloud. "Lessee... Name... Arthur Kirkland... Address... 145 Oak Street...Occupation... Journalist at NewsOK... birthday... April-"

Alfred halted his own words. His breath never came. He didn't even move. Quickly, he read back through what he'd just witnessed, it finally clicking in his mind. With wide eyes, the American turned to look up at Arthur. The damn blond was already smirking with mischief, tucking the papers back into his bag in joking glee.

"Arthur, NewsOK... that's.. That's the newspaper here!" It was the most obvious thing, but still, the American went on. "And, and... Oak Street... that's like 20 minutes from my dorm!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were turning a shade of red at the other's excitement. "Yes, I know that quite well already." He said, as if speaking to a young child. "I was able to rent out my home, though my parents are no longer paying for it. I got contact with them and apologized for my... past antics... but I suppose if I don't get into their business, they won't bother taking me home. I'm fine with that, however, and I've instead been able to score a job here. It's minimum wage for now, so I'm also working nights down at Habbard's Bar, but I'll get by. At least the price for renting this town-house isn't high."

"That's great!" Alfred bubbled, hardly able to believe he had indeed scored back his boyfriend. "God, Art, I'm so happy!"

"Well, I'm glad." Arthur nodded to himself. "Now close your eyes." Alfred, though skeptic, did as he was told. In a few seconds, a cold, metal object was placed into his hand. When he gained back his sight, he found a golden key in his palm.

"What's this for?"

"Dorms suck, don't they?" Arthur frowned, though he hardly met Alfred's eyes and looked away. "Now, you don't have to... but... I was thinking... it's awful lonely living alone and... Roommates aren't the best..."

Alfred blinked, staring at the male. In that moment, their past year together flashed in his eyes. He saw them meeting...in the pool... dancing together... their first time. And he knew exactly then he never wanted to be with anyone else. All he ever needed was right here, standing in front of him with an embarrassed scowl and staring at the ground in wait of an answer. In reaction, Alfred quickly drew in the smaller man, and kissed the top of his head lovingly.

"I can get my bags right now," Alfred laughed, and picked up his dented bike from the sidewalk. "Wanna take a tour of the city?"

"If I'm going to be living here, I might as well." He sighed, and let his hand be taken by that of the tanned fool. Arthur slung his bad over his side-walk, and cast a smile up to the lug. "By the way, I've been thinking about it lately. I wonder what the director did after I left production back in Denmark?"

"Probably trashed the whole thing," Alfred laughed as they strolled down the side-walk towards the school.

"Excuse me!" The two never noticed a short, chubby man chasing after the couple. So, as they took off in the other direction, the stubby legs stopped, and the man bent over to catch his breath. He struggled to stand up, and retrieved his newspaper from under his arm in confusion. "Ah... I guess it wasn't them... maybe a look-alike. Besides, how would they have gotten all the way over here?"

The man sighed, adjusted his bowler hat, and dropped the paper in the muck behind him.

As water sloshed over the ink, the blurred headline began to fade. And the title, "#1 Trending Pornography in Denmark Stars Disappears" soon became unreadable, vanishing with the top lines that slowly begun to run down the crumbling paper.

"A popular adult film star under the screen name Captain Cast disappeared from his set in Denmark last July, but not without making a screen-worthy exit. A mysterious bystander dressed as an extra burst onto the set during filming, delivering a heart-touching speech to the man dressed as a Goddess before the two fled. Not only was this scene added into the film, but it was finished with look-alikes of the two stars, and brought to public eyes. On January 6th of this year, the film was declared as the #1 selling pornography within the country for 2012. Identities and origin of the two are currently unknown, though a search has been sent out among directors everywhere to locate the pair, as it is suspected a sequel to this film could bring in millions..."

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**This is it for this story for now!  
~Kitkat**


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